


Fifty Shades of Bucky

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: Fifty Shades of Bucky [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angry Bucky Barnes, Angst, BDSM, Bathroom Sex, Blood, Bubble Bath, Bucky Barnes Feels, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Chases, Car Sex, Cowgirl Position, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Handcuffs, Heavy Angst, Heavy BDSM, Ice Play, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by 50 Shades of Grey, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Quickies, Reader-Insert, Restraints, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex in a Car, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, sad bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 78,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: A series of sexual escapades where Bucky shows you what it’s like to give in to your deepest desires.Inspired by the books/movies in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.





	1. Vanilla Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have sex for the first time.

 

“What?” The look of shock on Bucky’s face would have made you laugh if you hadn’t been so overwhelmingly embarrassed by the fact that you’d just had to tell him you were a virgin.

You blew out an irritated breath. “I’ve never had sex,” you repeated. “I’m a virgin.” You dropped your head into your hands, too shy or too embarrassed to make eye contact with Bucky any longer.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured softly. “Hey, look at me.”

You reluctantly raised your head, eyes locking with Bucky’s. He was smiling sweetly at you, putting you immediately at ease.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, rising to his feet and crossing the room to kneel in front of you. He took your hands in his. “No need to be embarrassed.”

You shrugged one shoulder and shook your head. Easy for him to say; he was the one with the experience, the one propositioning you, while you were the one having to sit back and say “oops, I’m a virgin, probably not what you’re looking for in a woman.” The thought made your stomach twist in a painful, nauseating knot.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s go.” He stood up, your hand in his.

“What?” you mumbled, resisting the pull of his hand. “Go where?”

“To the bedroom,” he said, as if it was the most logical answer in the world.

“What do you mean, the bedroom?” you asked.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand,” Bucky replied. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Your choice, Y/N.”

It felt as if the floor had fallen away beneath your feet, leaving you dangling over a huge gaping hole. You could let go and fall under Bucky’s spell, or you could resist him, and walk away with your sanity intact.

“You mean you’re going to...you’re going to fuck me?” you whispered.

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “I’m not going to fuck you, Y/N.” He fingers danced up your arm, his hand closing around the back of your neck and drawing you close, his lips a breath away from yours. “I’m going to make love to you.”

“I thought you didn’t do that.” You swallowed around a lump in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

“Mmm, I can do both, Y/N,” he grinned wickedly. “Come to bed with me. I want this to work, but you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“What I’m getting myself into?” you took a step back, out of his arms, fear squeezing your heart between cold hands. If you hadn’t been nervous before, those words pushed your anxiety up several notches.

“What about…,” you blew out a nervous breath, “...all that other stuff?”

“Forget about all of that for tonight,” Bucky smiled. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since you fell through the front door of the compound. I think you want me, too. You wouldn’t be here discussing what we’re discussing if you didn’t.” He held his hand out to you. “Please Y/N, spend the night with me.” His eyes were bright, fervent, excited.

You put your hand in his, allowing him to pull you into his arms, the length of his body flush against yours, the swift action taking you by surprise. His hand wrapped around the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, gently pulling so you were forced to look up at him. He leaned down and kissed you, sucking at your lower lip.

“I want to bite this lip,” he murmured against your mouth, carefully tugging it with his teeth. You moaned, earning a smile from Bucky. “Please, Y/N, let me make love to you.”

You nodded, your stomach alive with butterflies. As much as you wanted it, wanted him, you were still nervous and unsure.

Bucky’s smile was cocky, almost triumphant. He led you through his apartment to the bedroom, an almost non-descript room with white walls and pale blue blankets on the bed. The bed was enormous, plain with strong, oak wood, and four sturdy posts. On the wall above it was a large photograph of New York, an old one from the looks of it, probably taken before World War II, definitely not modern. The other furniture in the room, sparse as it was, matched the bed.

You stopped just inside the door, your entire body shaking like a wind blown leaf, sucking in one shallow breath after another, watching Bucky. He was beautiful; his chestnut brown hair was pulled away from his face in a low ponytail, and his bright blue eyes were sparkling, sexual energy seemed to radiate out of him. He stepped out of his shoes and shucked off his socks, then he strolled slowly toward you. He was confident, sexy, his eyes blazing with lust.

Your heart was pounding so hard, so loudly, that you were sure Bucky could hear it. Desire, hot and thick, pooled in the pit of your stomach. You shifted nervously from foot to foot, unsure where to look or what to do.

Bucky stood in front of you, staring into your eyes. “Let’s get you out of that sweater,” he said softly. He took hold of the cardigan you were wearing and gently slid it off of your shoulders and dropped it on the top of the dresser. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he whispered, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?” he added, tracing your jaw with his finger.

You closed your eyes, hypnotized by his rich voice washing over you, a delicious warmth flooding you. How could a man who had once been the world’s greatest assassin be so tender and sweet?

He leaned down and kissed you. He was unexpectedly demanding, his kisses firm, but slow, insistent. His fingers were on your blouse, slowly unbuttoning it while he placed soft, gentle kisses along your jaw, your chin, and the corners of your mouth. Your shirt fell to the floor and Bucky took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he breathed. “I want to kiss every single inch of your beautiful skin.” His hands were on either side of your head, holding you as he kissed you, his tongue coaxing your mouth open.

You moaned, instinctively obeying, your tongue tentatively meeting his. He wrapped his arms around you and hauled you against his body, squeezing you tightly. One hand slid down your waist to your ass, flexing, squeezing gently, holding you tight against him. You couldn’t hold back an absolutely filthy moan as his hips ground against yours, his own arousal obvious even through the thick denim of his jeans. You could barely control the riotous feelings running rampant through your body. You wanted him so badly.

Bucky eased you toward the bed, walking you backwards until you felt it hitting the back of your knees. You thought he was going to push you onto it, but instead he dropped to his knees, his hands on your hips, his tongue darting out to swirl around your belly button, then he gently nipped his way across your stomach from one hip bone to the other.

You gingerly brushed a hand through his hair, so soft, so unruly. You tugged gently, drawing a groan from Bucky’s lips. Seeing him on his knees in front of you, feeling his mouth on you, it was making you feel things you hadn’t expected. You kept your hands in his hair, the strands wrapped around your fingers, pulling it every so often. 

Bucky gazed up at you through his lashes, his blue eyes flashing with lust. He undid the button on your jeans, then he leisurely pulled down the zipper, taking his time, obviously in no rush to move things along. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of your jeans and slowly pulled them down, stopping for a moment to lean forward, running his nose up your inner thigh.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, his eyes closed, a look of pure bliss on his face.

Your entire body trembled, desire and need rolling through you. You bit your lip, holding back the groans fighting to get out of you.

Bucky lowered you to the bed, then he grabbed your foot and pulled off your shoe, then your sock. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. But he didn’t stop there, not until you were lying on the bed in only your bra and panties. Once your clothes were removed, he kneeled beside you, his fingers dancing up your legs, skimming your warm center, and continuing up your stomach, his light and easy touch sending tingles of need through your nerve endings.

He chuckled when you moaned again, your fingers grasping at the blankets beneath you. “Oh, what I could do to you,” he whispered, stretching out on the bed beside you, his lips against your ear, his body pressed against your side. “You’re so beautiful, so sweet. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, so seductive, so full of promise. You wanted more, you needed more.

Bucky rose to his feet and quickly removed his jeans and t-shirt, throwing them over the side of the bed. He crawled up the bed between your legs, his hands on your thighs, gently pushing them open. You couldn’t help but squirm, your body aflame with need.

“Keep still,” he murmured, his lips on your inner thigh, trailing kisses up and over the thin, lacy material of your panties.

“Bucky,” you gasped, still squirming.

“We’re going to have to work on you keeping still, doll.” His lips were on your stomach, moving up your torso, agonizingly slow.

Your skin was burning, flushed, too hot, your knuckles white from gripping the blankets so tightly. How was it possible that he could be so calm when he was literally torturing you with his touch?

His metal hand was cool as it slid up your side to your breast, his gaze unwavering as he cupped it in his hand. He traced the edge of your bra with one finger before gently pulling it down, freeing your breast. He did it again to the other, both breasts now bared, your nipples hardening immediately. Bucky’s tongue darted out and slowly circled one nipple, then he blew very gently on it, all while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Christ, you weren’t sure how much more you could handle; the sensations Bucky was eliciting had you so wet, so desperate for him, all you could think about was sliding your fingers between your legs to relieve the ache you felt there.

Bucky’s lips closed around the nipple and when he tugged, his teeth nipping ever so gently, another tremble worked its way through your body.

“Mmmm, I wonder if I can make you come just like this?” Bucky whispered. He didn’t stop the slow, sensual, sinful assault on your breasts with his lips and his fingers, suckling first one nipple than the other, alternating between his hand and his mouth until every single nerve was singing in sweet agony.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, your head falling back, your back arching, an unearthly groan coming from you.

“Let go, doll,” he whispered, his teeth closing around one nipple, and his thumb and his finger gently squeezing the other.

You fell apart, your body shuddering, shattering into a thousand pieces. His mouth was on yours, his tongue in your mouth, swallowing your cries.

“Good girl,” Bucky breathed, his breath hot against your skin.

Your breathing was ragged as you came down from the orgasm, and you felt like you could pass out. But you didn’t even have time to catch your breath, because Bucky’s hand was moving down your waist, over your hips, and then he cupped you, one finger slipping past the lace of your panties and slowly circling your clit.

Bucky closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. “You are so deliciously wet,” he growled. “God, I want you.” He eased one finger inside of you, thrusting it slowly, his lips on your neck, marking you. His thumb pressed hard against the swollen nub of nerves, pulling a gasp from you, your body wound so tight you thought you might explode. Another finger joined the first, pumping slowly, carefully, stretching you open, making sure you were ready for him.

Bucky was patient, taking his time, making sure you were comfortable. It was only when he thought you were ready that he sat up and shucked off his boxers, his hard length springing free. He opened a drawer in the bedside table and pulled out a foil packet, then he settled himself between your legs. He ripped open the foil packet and slid the condom down his considerable length.

“Bucky, I don’t know -” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I won’t hurt you, doll,” he murmured, kissing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “If you don’t want to do this, we can stop. Any time.” His lips slid along the edge of your jaw. “I swear, I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” you whispered. “I’m just -” You shrugged one shoulder, unable to finish the thought on the tip of your tongue, unable to let the words come out of your mouth. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky breathed. “I know.” He caught your lips in his, kissing you sweetly. He was back at your side, kissing you, his hands roaming over your body.

You felt yourself relaxing, opening yourself to him, your hand sliding down his back, urging him closer. You were nodding, murmuring ‘yes’ over and over again. Bucky pulled away, his blue eyes locking with yours, seeing your want and need, hearing it in your voice.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you sighed. “God, yes, please.”

Bucky lined himself up with your entrance, pulling your leg around his waist, entering you slowly, taking his time, allowing you time to adjust, an inch at a time, until he was fully seated inside of you, a deep guttural groan leaving him. The pain was minimal, nonexistent; Bucky was so sweet, so gentle, so careful.

“God, you’re so tight,” he moaned, his lips brushing against yours. “Are you okay, doll?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“I’m going to move,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. He eased back with exquisite slowness, his eyes closing for a brief second before he slowly thrust into you.

You cried out, unable to hold back the sound of your pleasure anymore. Bucky was thrusting, over and over, slow and easy, easing in and out of you. You moved, your hips rising to meet his, the movement encouraging Bucky to move faster, harder, setting a relentless rhythm. You somehow managed to keep up, meeting him thrust for thrust. Your head was between his hands and he was kissing you, hard, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. He shifted slightly and you could feel something building deep inside of you, just like before. Your body stiffened, your back bowing, a sheen of sweat covering you. There was only you and Bucky and the pleasure wrapping itself around every nerve ending.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he whispered breathlessly.

You unraveled at his words, splintering into a million pieces beneath him. He called your name as he came, thrusting hard, stilling as he emptied himself into the condom. 

Bucky rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. His eyes opened and he gazed down at you, his blue eyes nearly black. He pulled out of you, rolling to the side of the bed. He quickly removed the condom, tossing it in a nearby trash can before returning to your side.

Your heart was racing and you couldn’t quite catch your breath, and your thoughts, well, those were all over the place. You found Bucky’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

You shook your head, stretching. You felt loose-limbed, weak, but in a good way. You couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, his fingers running lazily through your hair.

“I’m positive,” you laughed. “I never knew it could be like that, never understood what all the fuss was about. That was...that was indescribable. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Oh really, Y/N,” Bucky murmured dryly. He kissed the corner of your mouth, his arms sliding around you, pulling you into the circle of his arms, your back against his chest. He unhooked your bra, letting you toss it away, while his hand was running down your back to settle on your ass. He shifted, one of his legs pushing between yours. He kissed your bare shoulder, his skin warm against yours.

“Do you want me to fuck you again?” he whispered in your ear, trailing light kisses around your ear and down your back. His hand moved down your side, skimming your waist, over your hip, and down your thigh to the back of your knee. He lifted your knee up higher, shifting so he was between your legs, pressed against your back, caressing your buttcheek.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” he whispered.

“Y-yes,” you stammered. And despite your nerves, you did trust him, with your life.

“You are mine,” he murmured. “Only mine.” His voice was intoxicating, his words heady, seductive. 

You could feel his cock hardening against your thigh, his breath hot against your ear. His long fingers slid down your stomach, settling between your legs, gently circling your clit. The stubble on his chin scratched your face as he slowly nibbled your earlobe.

“You smell amazing,” he groaned, nuzzling the spot behind your ear. He had two fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing, circling, teasing. 

Your hips started to circle, mirroring his hand, intense pleasure rolling through you. You held onto him, your nails digging into his forearm, your hips jerking under his careful ministrations.

“Keep still, doll,” he ordered. He slowly eased his thumb inside of you, rotating it, stroking your sweet spot.

You moaned, your grip on Bucky’s arm so tight you thought you might draw blood, your head thrown back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut. You’d never felt anything like it, it was mind blowing, all of your energy concentrated on that one small space inside your body.

“Do you like this?” Bucky asked quietly, his teeth grazing your outer ear, his thumb flexing, his fingers still circling your clit.

You were trying to keep your erratic breathing under control, the insane, overwhelming, perfect sensations he was eliciting from you from unleashing a fire deep in your gut. You were moaning, loud, obscene, sinful, but Bucky kept up his slow, tortuous rhythm, the feeling absolutely exquisite.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he growled in your ear. “And I promise you, I will. Just not tonight.” He snatched another condom from the bedside table and quickly rolled it on.

Bucky slowly eased into you, until he was buried deep inside of you. This time was different, delectable, almost like it was forbidden. He deliberately circled his hips, then he pulled back, pausing for just a second before easing back in. He did it again and again, teasing you with deliberate, slow thrusts. You could feel the coil tightening, close to snapping, your body right on the cusp of another orgasm. A deep shudder raced through.

“Mmm, not yet, doll,” Bucky groaned, pulling back and waiting. After a few seconds, he started moving again, pushing you immediately back to the edge.

“Buck,” you gasped, your body wound tight, craving release. “Please -”

He moved faster, his breathing erratic, the hand resting on your waist squeezing tight, thrusting relentlessly until you were coming, every neuron alight with indescribable euphoria, your body convulsing around him, screaming his name into the pillow beneath your head. Bucky was close behind, two hard thrusts, groaning as he came.

He collapsed on top of you, his face pressed to the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, pulling out of you and rolling off of you. “That was fucking perfect.”

You closed your eyes, not even opening them when Bucky used the warm cloth to clean you up, or when he pulled the blanket up to your chin and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You were utterly spent, falling into a deep sleep within minutes.

 


	2. The Basics (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky stops by your room after a long day and offers to teach you the basics.

The knock on your door was short and sharp, insistent. You wrapped the robe around yourself and hurried to open the door of your small apartment tucked in one of the back hallways of the Avengers compound.

“Bucky, hi,” you smiled at the man standing in your doorway. “What are you doing here?”

You hadn’t seen Bucky since you’d left his room early this morning. You’d both spent the day doing your own thing - you’d been helping Pepper in the office, while Bucky had spent the day in the on-site training facility. You’d gone straight to your apartment right after work, too exhausted to make small talk or visit with anyone. All you’d wanted to do was take a hot bath, eat something, and go to sleep. Of course, Bucky had been on your mind all day, distracting you in the best possible way, though it hadn’t been conducive to getting anything done. Pepper had even commented on your lack of focus several times, which was why you’d ended up working late, an attempt to make up for the multitude of mistakes you’d made.

“I thought I’d stop by and show you the basics,” Bucky smirked, interrupting your train of thought.

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered. “The basics?”

Bucky stepped into the room and pushed the door closed, leaning against it with his arms crossed. “Yes, the basics. Since I was unaware that you were a virgin when we met, when we discussed our potential arrangement, I want to make sure you’re not getting into something you can’t handle.”

“I think I can handle you, Buck,” you laughed.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky shook his head, a chuckle rumbling from his throat. His eyes roamed the length of your body. “You going to bed?”

“I was going to take a bath,” you murmured.

“Perfect,” he said, pushing past you and stalking purposefully toward the bathroom.

You followed him, standing silently in the bathroom door, wide-eyed and wary, your arms wrapped around yourself, watching Bucky as he filled the tub with water and bubble bath from the bottle sitting nearby. As the water rose in the bathtub, Bucky stripped off his t-shirt, but nothing else, as if he had no plans to join you. He held his hand out, gesturing for you to join him. You took it, following his instructions to step into the bath, even though you were still wearing your robe. You hissed at the sting of the almost too hot water.

“Turn around and face me,” he ordered quietly.

You did as he instructed, your hands fisted in the bottom of the robe, a futile attempt to tug it down, to cover your nakedness. Bucky was watching you intently, making you acutely aware of your every flaw.

He reached out, grabbed the robe, and slid it down your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. He stood back, gazing at you.

Heat flooded you, the need to disappear into the hot water and bubbles overwhelming you. You stared at your hands, twisting in front of you.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered. “Look at me, Y/N.”

You did as commanded, peeking at him through your lashes. 

“You are a gorgeous woman,” he said. “Don’t hang your head like you’re ashamed. Trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I like standing here and staring at you.” He took your chin in his hand and tipped your head back, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were piercing, mesmerizing. 

You reached up to touch him, to run your fingers over the scars that marred his chest and shoulder, but he caught your arm, his head shaking minutely. You winced, your lower lip caught between your teeth, and dropped your arm.

“Sit.” 

His voice left no room for no argument, so you slid into the warm, welcoming water. It stung, the heat prickling across your skin, but it smelled amazing. You laid back and closed your eyes, relaxing into its soothing warmth. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“Why don’t you join me?” you asked, your voice thick with lust, the thought of Bucky in the water with you making your stomach twist with anticipation.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he smiled. “Scoot forward.” He stripped off his sweatpants and climbed in behind you, the water rising as he sat down, pulling you against his chest. He rested his long legs over yours, his ankles hooking around yours, opening your legs. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled deeply, but he didn’t speak.

A shudder ran through you. You were naked, in a bathtub, with Bucky. If someone had told you a week ago that you’d be doing this, especially with the super soldier now sitting behind you, you would have laughed in their face.

He reached for the body wash on the shelf beside the tub, squeezing a generous amount into his hands. He rubbed them together until there was a soft, foaming lather, then he put them on your shoulders, his long, strong fingers deftly massaging the tight muscles. You groaned, your head dropping, and your eyes closing, the tension leaving your body. Bucky’s hands glided down your arms, then up your sides, circling your breasts, kneading them gently. Your back arched, pushing your breasts into his hands. He didn’t linger long, his hands moved down your stomach, your heart racing, your breath tearing in and out of your throat. You could feel his arousal pressed against your back and you had to resist the urge to squirm, to see if you could draw a sound from him. It was hard to believe that you were the reason Bucky was turned on, that he could be that attracted to you.

His hands stopped their downward trek, pausing long enough for him to snatch the washcloth from the edge of the tub, leaving you aching. Your hands tightened on his thick, muscular thighs, squeezing, drawing a groan from Bucky. 

His lips closed on the juncture where your neck and shoulder met, marking you, the hand with the washcloth sliding down your stomach and between your legs, He moved slowly, carefully, teasing you with the washcloth, stimulating you. The sensation was heavenly and your hips started moving with his hand, your head thrown back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed closed, whimpering, your nails digging into his thighs.

“Do you feel that, doll?” Bucky whispered in your ear his teeth grazing your earlobe. “Let yourself feel everything. Feel it for me.”

Your legs were pinned by his to the side of the tub, holding you in place, your hips rocking against his hand, your nerves on fire with something indescribable. “Oh...oh...please,” you gasped, on the cusp of a mind-blowing orgasm.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Bucky murmured, releasing you.

“Wh-why are you stopping?” you groaned, your body trembling from the bliss you’d been denied.

“Because I have other plans for you, Y/N,” he replied, his lips slowly caressing the side of your neck. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told, turning to face him, still between his legs. To your surprise, he had his cock in his hand, stroking the length. You couldn’t help but stare. He was huge, seemingly growing larger by the second. His erection was above the water line, the water lapping at his hips. When you glanced up at him, you were met with a wicked grin. He was obviously enjoying himself. You wanted to touch him, and you suspected he wanted you to touch him as well. You forced a smile; intimacy like this was new to you and a bit frightening. Bucky smiled at you, sweet and soft, putting you instantly at ease.

You took a deep breath, grabbed the bottle of body wash, and squirted a generous dollop in your hand. You lathered it between your hands until the bubbles were dripping into the water, your eyes never leaving his. You reached forward and placed one of your hands around his cock, mimicking the way he was touching himself. His face was calm, serious, his eyes nearly black with lust, widening as your tongue snaked out of your mouth and danced across your lower lip. Unsure what to do, you squeezed his hard shaft gently, wondering if you were hurting him.

“Like this,” he whispered, his hand moving up and down with a firm grip around your fingers.

Your own fingers tightened around him, the palm of your hand slipping easily down his length.

Bucky closed his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat, his head falling back, a deep guttural groan leaving him. When he opened them again, the bright blue orbs seem to pierce your soul. 

“That’s right, doll.” He let go of your hand, leaving you to make do on your own, his eyes slipping closed as you stroked his length. His hips flexed, his cock jumping in your hand, and without thinking, you grasped him tighter. Another low groan escaped from deep within his throat, his mouth dropping open as his breathing quickened.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, while Bucky’s eyes were still closed, and placed your lips around the tip of his cock, tentatively sucking, your tongue running around the tip.

“Fuck,” Bucky growled, his eyes flying open, his hips jutting up, water splashing onto your face, startling you enough that you pulled away, sitting back on your heels.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Come here, doll.” He took hold of your upper arms, dragged you up his body and kissed you. The next thing you knew, he was clambering out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist, doing nothing to hide his erection. He grabbed one of your huge, fluffy white towels, and held it out for you, waiting not so patiently. You quickly climbed out of the tub and let him wrap you in the towel. Once he’d dried you off, sort of, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You longed to touch him, run your hands over his arms, his shoulders, explore every inch of him, but your arms were trapped in the towel. He cradled your head in his hands, his tongue exploring your mouth.

“God, Y/N, your mouth,” Bucky groaned. “I want you to use your mouth on me, doll. Can you do that? Can I fuck your mouth?”

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding at the thought of using your mouth to please Bucky. It only took you a moment to decide. You nodded.

Bucky didn’t hesitate, he took your hand, dragged you back into your small bedroom, and sat on the end of your bed, his towel falling away. He looked up at you, waiting.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, your own towel landing in a heap on the floor behind you. You wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking gently, your mouth already watering at the thought of what you were about to do. Ducking your head, you pulled him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip, the taste of him flooding your senses. He flexed and raised his hips, his eyes open, blistering with heat as he watched you. His teeth clenched, he flexed his hips again, and you pulled him deeper into your mouth, your hands flat on his flexing thighs, supporting yourself. One hand curled around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, his hips rocking beneath your onslaught.

“Oh, fuck, doll, that feels good,” he growled.

You sucked harder and flicked your tongue across the head of his impressive length. Careful to wrap your lips around your teeth, you closed your mouth around him, sliding him in deep, until he hit the back of your throat, before pulling back to dance your tongue around the tip once more. You sucked even harder, pulling him deeper and deeper, up and down, your tongue swirling around him. The carnal sounds Bucky was making were turning you on; the pleasure you were giving him served only to make you wetter.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth, doll,” Bucky warned, his voice wrecked, breathy, gone. “If you don’t want me to, you need to stop now.” He pumped his hips again, his eyes wide and filled with a salacious need, need for you.

You wanted to stop, but you also didn’t want to. You wanted to feel him come undone, wanted to make him lose control, if only for a moment. In a moment of unforeseen confidence, you bared your teeth, dragging them up, then down his length. It tipped him over the edge, a soft cry coming from him, his legs tensing, his cock twitching and pulsing in your mouth as he came down your throat.

You swallowed, a moan leaving you, heat flooding you as Bucky came undone. When it was over, you sat back and watched him, triumphant in what you’d done, a gloating smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You hadn’t expected that to be so easy, so fun; you hadn’t expected to enjoy it.

Bucky laid on the bed, his metal arm thrown over his eyes, his breathing ragged. After a few minutes, he moved his arm and opened his eyes, staring at you as if he’d never seen you before. “Christ, Y/N, that was...good, really good. Have you ever done that before?”

“No,” you shook your head, resisting the urge to let the gloating smile free.

“Hmm, yet another first,” he chuckles. “I’m beginning to like that.” He sat up, took your hand in his and tugged gently. “Come here.”

You crawled onto the bed, stretching out beside him, his mouth immediately finding yours, the kiss making your head spin. He pulled away, his hands on either side of your face, staring intently into your eyes.

“I want you to say yes,” he whispered fervently. “Please Y/N, say yes. You won’t regret it.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer because he was kissing you again, sweetly, passionately.

God, you wanted him, you wanted what he was offering - you and him and every one of your sexual desires come to fruition. Your pulse had gone through the roof, your heart beating in a frantic rhythm. He ran his fingers down your sides, taking your hands in his, pulling them up and holding them above your head. He curled your fingers around the bars in the headboard.

“Keep your hands up here, don’t move them. Do you understand?” He stared at you, stealing your breath with the intensity of his gaze. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t seem to be able to form words.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice scarily soft.

“I won’t move my hands,” you exhaled.

“Good girl,” he murmured and deliberately licked his lips, mesmerizing you with his tongue as it swept slowly over his upper lip. He leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m going to kiss you all over, doll,” he said softly, cupping your chin and pushing your head back to give him access to your throat. His lips slid down your throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping.

Your body leapt to attention, your skin hypersensitive to Bucky’s touch. Heated blood pooled low in your gut, right between your legs, drawing a groan from you. God, you wanted to touch him. You moved one of your hands, releasing the headboard, and tangled your fingers in his hair.

Bucky stopped, looked up at you and shook his head. He grabbed your hands and placed them above your head again. “Don’t move your hands or we just have to start all over again,” he scolded.

“I want to touch you,” you moaned, your voice breathy and out of control.

“I know,” he murmured. “But I want you to keep your hands above your head. One of the basics.” His voice was stern, forceful, but teasing as well. He cupped your chin and started kissing your throat again, his hands running down your body and over your breasts as he reached the dip at the base of your neck with his lips. His breath was hot against your skin, moving down your body, following the path of his hands, down your neck to your breasts, his tongue laving and sucking your already tender nipples. You were desperately trying to remember to keep your hands above your head, even while your body was writhing beneath Bucky.

“Keep still,” he warned, pushing himself down the bed, down your body. He dipped his tongue inside your belly button, gently grazing your stomach with his teeth, his nose gliding down your body, his teeth nipping at you, teasing you with his tongue. Your body burned with need, your back arching, a wanton gasp leaving you. He continued kissing his way down your body, along the back of your knee, over your calves, and to your ankle. Bucky glanced up at you, a wicked smile on his face, before he began kissing your other ankle, your knee, up the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs open.

You knew what he was going to do, and the sudden urge to push him away fell over you. You wanted to tell him to stop, that he didn’t have to do what he was about to do, that he didn’t owe you anything, that you’d never had that done to you before, and if Bucky did it, you weren’t sure you could survive the onslaught of emotions it would create. But words wouldn’t come to you, not when Bucky was kissing, licking, sucking, and biting your inner thigh. Then he was between your legs, the tip of his nose running up and down your sex, very softly, very gently. You squirmed beneath him, the anticipation nearly killing you.

Bucky stopped, waiting for you to quit moving. Despite your pounding heart and frayed nerves, you managed to calm yourself, barely. A sigh escaped you as Bucky blew gently up the length of your sex, his fingers slowly tracing your most intimate parts.

“Please,” you begged.

“Hmmm, I love it when you beg, Y/N,” he whispered, gentle puffs of air still blowing along your sex. “I don’t usually do tit for tat, doll, but you deserve a reward.”

You weren’t sure how it was possible, but you could actually _hear_ the smirk in his voice. His tongue darted out, sliding through the lips of your pussy, the sensation making your body bow and convulse. He circled your clit with his tongue, again and again, his hands on your inner thighs, holding you in place. It was torture, perfect, soul-consuming, endless torture.

You lost all sense of yourself, every atom of your being concentrated on what Bucky was doing between your legs. When he slipped his finger inside of you, you moaned, the obscene sound filling the room.

“Fuck, doll, I love how wet you are,” he growled. 

His finger was moving in tandem with his tongue, and it was too much, more than you thought you could handle. Your body begged for relief and you could no longer deny it. You let yourself go, the orgasm seizing you, twisting, building, until your world spun out of control, starbursts exploding behind your eyes. God, you wanted to touch him, to wrap your fingers in your hair and hold him against you.

When it was over, you couldn’t move, your body wrung out, every inch of you throbbing from the intensity of your orgasm. Bucky’s lips roamed over your inner thighs, along your hips, and up your stomach. You moaned as his hips notched against yours and he pressed his mouth against your ear, kissing the sensitive skin beneath it.

“See how good we are together?” he murmured. “I promise you, it will only get better. Say yes.” His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering over yours. “Trust me.”

You released your grip on the headboard and gently tucked a strand of his chestnut hair behind his ear. His blue eyes were locked on yours, waiting for your answer. You realized in that moment that you would do anything for Bucky. Anything. You belonged to him. He’d already taken you to heights you hadn’t known existed and the thought that he wanted to take it even further was both exhilarating and frightening. You opened your mouth to finally give him your answer, but you were interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone coming from the bathroom.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed. “I have to get that.” He pushed himself off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, emerging a minute later, dressed, with his phone pressed to his ear and your robe in his hand. You crawled out of the bed, taking it from him and putting it on.

“I’ll be right down,” he said. “Five minutes.” He disconnected the call and tucked the phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. “I have to go, doll.” He leaned over you, took your chin in his hand, and kissed you, his tongue tracing your lower lip, the fingers of his metal hand stroking your face.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Yes?” he asked, looking closely at you. “You sure, doll?”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

A smile broke out across Bucky’s face, a smile that quickly turned to a mischievous grin as he took hold of the tie on your robe, tugging at it until it came free. He twisted it around his fingers and held it at eye level, dangling it in front of you.

“Next time,” he said. He kissed you one last time and disappeared out your door.


	3. The Basics (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes things to a whole new level, teaching you another one of the basics.

 

“What are you doing tonight?”

Bucky’s mouth was right beside your ear, his body flush against yours, his metal hand resting over yours. Heat flooded you, your body tensing at having him so unbelievably close. You turned your hand over and laced your fingers with his. You shook your head and murmured “nothing” just loud enough for Bucky to hear.

“Come to my room around ten,” he ordered, his voice low so only you would hear him.

A shudder ran through you and you somehow managed to nod. Bucky pressed a kiss to the spot right behind your ear and then he was gone.

Every eye in the room was on you - Steve’s, Wanda’s, even Tony’s - and you wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air. You grabbed your coffee and hurried from the room, the weight of their stares following you.

At ten p.m. on the dot you were outside Bucky’s door, shifting from foot to foot. Before you could knock, the door flew open. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Bucky standing in front of you, hair pulled back, barefoot, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He didn’t say anything, just pushed the door open all the way and waited.

You took a deep breath and stepped inside, jumping a little when the door slammed closed behind you. A second later, Bucky’s arms were around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips on your neck. You tipped your head to the side, giving him easier access, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair, a quiet moan leaving you.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“You just saw me this morning,” you laughed. “In the kitchen? Remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Bucky sighed. “I remember that you looked absolutely delectable, but because everyone was in the kitchen, watching us, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do to you.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “And what was it you wanted to do to me?”

Bucky started walking, crossing the apartment, and moving down the hall, pushing you in front of him. He went directly to the bed, stopping beside it. A second later, the tie from your robe, the one he’d taken the other night, was dangling in front of your eyes.

“What’s that for?” you inquired.

“Another lesson in the basics,” Bucky replied. “But only if you want to.”

“O-okay,” you stammered. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to tie you to the bed,” he growled.

Your heart was ready to pound out of your chest, and while the thought of being tied up, helpless, and completely controlled by Bucky frightened you, it also made your entire body ache with need. The whole point of this arrangement with Bucky was to explore your deepest sexual desires, which included desires you hadn’t known existed.

“I want to,” you murmured.

“Get on the bed,” he said, his tone strong, authoritative. He slapped your right ass cheek as he took a step backwards.

You jumped, though it hadn’t hurt, just surprised you. You followed his directions, climbing onto the bed and lying down. Bucky waited until you were stretched out across the bed, then he straddled you, the tie from your robe twisted around his fingers. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“If at any point, you want to stop, you tell me,” Bucky said. “I mean it. I won’t be angry, I won’t be upset. Your safety and well being is more important to me than anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

Bucky nodded, once, then he grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them together and fastening the tie around them, then he tied one end to the post on his headboard. He pulled at the bindings, testing his work. It was tight, though not tight enough to hurt. The tie was thick, soft cotton, fluffy, like your robe. Once he was satisfied that you weren’t going anywhere, he slid off of you and stood at the side of the bed, staring down at you, his eyes dark with want. 

He bent over, slipped your sandals off, and dropped them to the floor. His hands moved up your legs, caressing you, teasing you, finally settling on the button of your shorts. He opened them, then he slowly peeled them off, tossing them aside. Next was your shirt, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he thought he was going to get the shirt off of you when your hands were tied to the headboard, but apparently Bucky had other ideas. He slowly pushed the shirt up your body, his lips trailing after it, but instead of pushing it over your head like you thought he would, he somehow managed to fold it over your eyes like a makeshift blindfold.

“Bucky?” you exhaled, your voice shaking.

His lips brushed against yours, his tongue delicately dancing across your lower lip. “Just breathe, doll,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” One arm slid beneath you, lifting you up to meet his mouth, the kiss soft, gentle, probing.

You relaxed in his arms, confident that Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t do anything that you didn’t want to do. He held you, kissing you, his hand roaming over your body, until your breathing slowed and you were whimpering, begging him for more.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he murmured, pushing himself away from you, the bed moving slightly as he got up.

You groaned in frustration. You could hear him moving around, cupboards opening and closing, ice falling into a glass, and water running, then he was padding softly back across the floor. You could hear faint shuffling sounds as he removed his pants and shirt, dropping them to the floor, then the bed shifted as he straddled you again.

Something wet and cold dripped on your naked breasts, then Bucky was leaning over you, and you expected to feel his lips on your neck or your shoulders, but instead, you felt the sharp bite of cold against your skin.

You gasped, goose pimples breaking out all over you. Bucky’s low, throaty chuckle echoed in your head. Your hands flexed in your bindings. God, the urge to touch him was overwhelming.

Bucky slowly and leisurely trailed chilled kisses down the center of your body, from the base of your throat to your breasts, down to your stomach. He held the ice between his teeth, circling your belly button, the cold, an unbelievably sensual sensation, making your head spin. He moved back up your body, the ice cube completely melted by the time his cold lips closed around your nipples, sucking greedily. You groaned, pulling on your restraints, your hips coming off of the bed.

You heard ice clinking against the glass, then Bucky was cupping your breast and circling the nipple, the painful yet astonishingly pleasant feel of the ice dragging across your taut nipple sending shots of pure euphoria shooting up and down your spine.

“Jesus, Bucky, please,” you begged. The things he was doing to you were driving you insane, out of your mind with ecstasy, with want and need.

Bucky hummed against your skin, his cool fingers easing down your stomach. They slipped into your panties, slowly caressing you.

“Mmm, doll,” he breathed. “You’re so wet.” One finger eased into you, tantalizingly slow, pumping in and out. His thumb circled your clit, teasing you, then he pressed the pad of his thumb against the swollen nub of nerves, at the same time that he added a second finger to the first.

Your hips rose on their own, pushing against his expert fingers, a gasp leaving you. “I want to touch you,” you moaned, yanking on the tie still restraining you. “I want to see you.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “You are such a greedy girl.” He leaned down and kissed you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside of you, his thumb circling and pressing.

You were nearly out of your mind, the need to come firing through every nerve ending,  an insane wildfire racing through the blood in your veins. A scream was building in your throat as Bucky pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your back arching, your head spinning, your breath tearing in and out of your throat.

Bucky’s hand stopped moving, holding you right on the brink, keeping you precariously balanced, again and again, until you were whimpering, begging for release, tugging repeatedly at your restraints, helpless and lost in erotic torment.

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his mouth against your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“I w-want you to f-fuck me,” you stammered, moaning and writhing beneath him. “Please, Bucky, don’t tease me anymore.”

Bucky pushed the shirt from your eyes and he was right there, his face in yours, his blue eyes sparkling with glee, a smirk on his perfect lips. He kissed you, more torture, your body now singing with the need to come, the need to feel Bucky inside of you. He pushed away from you and you whined at the loss of his body weight on yours, but he was back almost instantly, ripping open a condom and sliding it down his impressive length. He lifted you and gently turned you over, careful to make sure that you didn’t get hung up awkwardly in the tie holding you to his headboard. He repositioned you, your ass in the air, your body weight supported on your elbows. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little awkward.

He moaned, his hand caressing your butt cheek, his lips dragging down the length of your spine. “God, I want to spank your ass,” he growled.

You couldn’t stop the gasp that left you. The thought of Bucky spanking you was unquestionably erotic and you wondered if that would be part of your arrangement. You kind of hoped it would be.

Bucky took hold of your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you, burying himself inside your warmth. The sensation pushed you over the edge that you’d been teetering on, your body immediately responding to him, coming hard, falling apart beneath him as he slammed into you.

He didn’t stop, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take. Bucky wrapped his metal arm around you, his fingers between your legs, easily finding your clit, circling it as he continued pounding into you.

“Come on, doll,” he ordered. “I want you to come again.”

Your body responded, convulsing around him as you climaxed again, screaming his name, your body and soul shattering into tiny fragments. Bucky tensed, his fingers digging into your hips, a low grunt leaving him as his own release followed yours.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you falling to the bed. He reached up and released the ties binding you with one quick tug. You flexed your fingers, trying to get the blood flowing. Bucky took your hands in his, gently rubbing your wrists, his body curling around yours.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your jaw before pushing himself off the bed. He wasn’t gone long, just a couple of minutes, returning to your side with a bottle of water and one of his t-shirts. He helped you into it, then he handed you the water and sat down beside you.

“That was unbelievable,” you sighed, stretching lazily as you sat up, smiling up at Bucky.

“Mmm, you liked that?” he chuckled.

“I did,” you giggled, your hands over your face, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, don’t be embarrassed,” Bucky whispered, pulling your hands away from your face. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“There’s just...there’s so much I don’t know, that I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I can’t help but wonder if you really want to do this. Do you really want to spend all of your free time teaching me these… _ things _ ?”

Bucky pulled you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t want to, doll.”

You felt a shift in yourself, in the way you thought about this arrangement with Bucky. You were going to get hurt, you knew it. You weren’t sure he was capable of, interested in, or even willing to give you any more than what this was and you wanted more. So much more. But you knew Bucky didn’t get involved, he didn’t have relationships. That was common knowledge among everyone. The only person Bucky let in was Steve, period. You were going to have to sift through the mess of feelings and emotions warring inside of you. That thought frightened you.

Unexpectedly, Bucky pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms, and kissed you softly. Something changed while he was kissing you; it seemed to take on a sense of urgency, his hands moving up to hold your head, his breathing accelerating. He deepened the kiss, crushing you against his chest.

Your hands were on his arms and you wanted to run them over his chest, his shoulders, his scars, but you knew he wouldn’t like it, so you slid them into his hair, tangling your fingers in the chestnut strands, pulling out the rubber band he’d haphazardly put in, letting his hair fall across his face. When the two of you finally broke apart, Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“Can I stay?” you whispered.

“Yeah, doll, of course you can,” he replied, pulling the blankets up and over the two of you. He pulled you against him, your back to his chest, his hand resting lightly on your hip. Within minutes, his breathing changed and you knew he was asleep.

You laid in the dark for a long time after that, staring at the wall.

 


	4. Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky discuss hard and soft limits. You discover that Bucky doesn’t like it when you roll your eyes at him.

 

You found Bucky on the shooting range, slaughtering some paper targets. You slipped in the door and waited for him to finish emptying his gun. It didn’t take long.

He set his gun on the low table and took off his headphones. “Hey, doll,” he said, without even turning around. He began breaking down his gun, quickly and efficiently, not even looking at it.

“How’d you know it was me?” you asked.

He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Seriously?” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Um, you got a minute?”

“I do,” he replied, turning around and leaning against the low table, arms crossed, watching you. “What’s up?”

“So, I’ve been Googling -”

“That’s never good,” Bucky muttered.

“Buck -” you sighed.

“Sorry, continue,” he said.

“I’ve been Googling submissives,” you continued. “Trying to get it all straight in my head. And, well, we never talked about limits. You know, what I’m - we’re - willing to do and not do.”

“I’m willing to do pretty much everything,” Bucky shrugged, a little too quickly for your liking.

You rolled your eyes. “This isn’t about you.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Y/N,” Bucky growled. “And yes, it is about me. You have to understand that for me, there aren’t many limits. This is who I am, what I do. It’s how I...how I maintain control.”

“Over me?” you gulped.

“Not necessarily,” he shook his head. “Over, well, everything. For years my control was taken away from me. The things I did -” He stopped, swallowed noticeably, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t let that happen anymore. In any aspect of my life. Period.” He took a couple of steps closer to you. “It’s not about hurting you, it’s not about causing you pain.” 

“It’s not?” you murmured.

“Not at all,” Bucky explained. “I swear, Y/N.”

“But you’re still going to spank me?” you asked.

“Only if you want me to,” Bucky replied. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You choose your limits, hard and soft.”

“Hard  _ and _  soft?” You weren’t sure what he meant.

“Hard limits are those limits you absolutely will not do,” Bucky explained. “I’m sure in your Googling, you’ve seen some things you don’t want to do.”

You were nodding before he’d even finished speaking. There were things you’d seen that you didn’t want to try, things that scared you.

“And soft limits are things that you’re unsure of, but you might eventually be willing to try,” he went on. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “So, if I tell you it’s a hard limit, we won’t do it? Period?”

“That’s right,” Bucky said. “We won’t. And if it’s a soft limit, but you aren’t ready to try it, we can work up to it or we can wait until you feel like you’re ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was a simple answer, and yet, you could feel the tension go out of your shoulders and the weird twisting nerves in your stomach settled down.

“Good,” Bucky grinned. “Don’t be afraid to ask me about these things. I don’t bite.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Sure you don’t.”

Bucky crossed the room in a couple of long strides, grabbed your by the upper arms, and dragged your closer. “I swear to God, Y/N, if you roll those eyes at me again, I am going to spank you.”

“Promise?” you whispered.

Bucky growled, his mouth slanting over yours, his arms sliding around you, hugging you close. His tongue probed at your mouth until you let him in, both of you moaning as the kiss deepened. You were both panting when he finally released you. Bucky’s hand slid down your back and cupped your ass, squeezing hard.

“I really do want to spank your ass,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Later,” you vowed, wiggling free of his embrace. “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

Later turned out to be much later than you’d expected. The team was called out to a terrorist threat in upper Manhattan and you had no idea when they would return. Just before they left, Bucky slipped his room key into your hand and told you to wait there for him.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before boarding the quinjet, looking back over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

You heard Bucky’s apartment door open and close sometime after midnight, drawing you out of the light sleep you’d fallen into. You sat up, watching Bucky as he came in the bedroom and went straight into the bathroom, the shower coming on a few minutes later. You resisted the urge to join him, knowing he most likely had plans for you. He’d hinted at it enough before he’d left.

He wasn’t in the bathroom long, emerging with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and gave you a weary smile.

“Tired?” you asked.

“A little,” he shrugged. “So, you did as I asked. I’m surprised.”

“Really?” you smiled. “You told me to wait here for you.”

“Yes, I did,” he chuckled. “But, you have a tendency to not obey me.”

“Obey you?” you laughed. “Is that what I’m supposed to do?” You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “That sounds so ridiculous.”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Y/N?” Bucky murmured, stalking across the room and coming to a stop in front of you.

“N-no,” you squeaked.

“I think you did,” Bucky shook his head. “What did I say I’d do if you rolled your eyes at me again?” He sat down on the edge of the bed by your feet. “Come here.” His voice was low, soft, on the edge of menacing, and fucking hot.

Your insides twist with potent, needy desire. Bucky held your gaze, waiting, his eyes blazing. As much as you’d thought you’d wanted this, the thought of Bucky spanking you like you were a petulant child was a little frightening.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

You slowly uncurled your legs and crawled down the bed to sit beside him. Blood pounded through your body and your legs felt like jelly. He reached over, pulled the t-shirt you were wearing over your head, and tossed it aside.

“Good girl,” he purred. “Now stand up.”

Hesitantly, you clambered to your feet and stood in front of him. Bucky took your hand and tugged, laying you across his lap. In one swift move, he angled his body so your torso was resting on the bed beside him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your hip as he slowly pulled down your underwear, baring your ass to him.

He placed his hand on your naked buttcheek, softly fondling you, stroking you with the flat of his palm. A second later, you felt a hard slap to your ass. Your eyes popped open in surprise, a startled yelp leaving you. He caressed you again, right where he’d smacked you. 

A rhythmic pattern emerged - caress, fondle, then a hard slap. The combination was mind numbing and sensual all at the same time, making heat pool deep in the pit of your stomach. You shifted on his lap, moaning. You hadn’t expected to get so turned on.

Bucky’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into you. “Fuck, doll,” he groaned. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. You like it when I spank you, don’t you?” He pushed his fingers deep inside of you, scissoring you open.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Jesus Christ, yes.” You were panting and moaning, rocking yourself back and forth on his probing fingers.

Bucky leaned over you and kissed a trail down your spine. He cupped your breast with his metal hand, pinching the nipple between two fingers while he continued fucking you with his fingers.

You gasped, your body jerking under the onslaught. “Please, Bucky, please let me come.”

“Not until I say you can, doll,” he growled. He released you, dragging you off of his lap and yanking you against him, one hand on your back holding you to him and the other fisting in your hair. He kissed you, parting your lips with his tongue, deep and probing.

Your blood was boiling as you returned his kiss. You wanted him so much it almost hurt. Your hands roamed over his body, his arms, his shoulders, across his stomach, caressing his scars.

Bucky shot to his feet, swiftly setting you down in front of him. He grabbed your wrists in both hands and leaned over you. His face was stoic, cold, angry. “You know the rules, Y/N,” he growled. “No touching my scars.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, his expression had softened. He took a deep breath and swallowed.

“I’m not angry,” he murmured. His nose skimmed along the edge of your jaw and down your neck, trailing soft kisses along your shoulder. “You just...that’s the one rule you have to obey. Okay?”

Your nodded and your breathing changed, shallow, rushed, filled with expectation. Achingly slow, he licked, kissed, and sucked his way to your other shoulder, turning you so you were facing away from him. He was tantalizingly good at what he was doing. Your body hummed with desire, squirming at his touch.

“You are going to have to learn to keep still,” he whispered, kissing the nape of your neck. His arms slid around you, his fingers dancing up your stomach to cup your breasts, your nipples hardening at his touch.

Tentatively, you stretched your arms above your head and weaved your fingers through his soft hair, tugging gently, wondering if he would scold you again. Your head rolled to one side, allowing him easier access to your neck.

Bucky pulled you flush against his body, his fingers twisting and plucking at your taut nipples. You groaned as the sensation registered sharp and clear right between your legs. Your back arched, pushing your breasts into his expert hands.

“Mmm, you like this, don’t you, doll?” he hummed, his mouth pressed to your ear.

You moaned in response, your brain unable to connect to your mouth to make a sound, not when Bucky was slowly torturing you.

“Use your words,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you gasped.

“Yes, what?” Bucky asked.

“Y-yes, sir,” you moaned.

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice enough to set you on edge. He pinched your nipple, hard, your body writhing uncontrollably against him.

You gasped at the exquisite, acute, pleasure mixed with pain, your hands clenching in his hair, pulling harder, grinding against him. Bucky grinned against your neck as his hands moved down to your hips and over your ass. He slipped his fingers between your legs and pressed one into you from behind. He held you with one arm loosely around your waist as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, his lips roaming over the back of your neck. Within seconds, you were moaning and undulating against his hand.

Bucky released you, spun you around so you were facing him, his lips finding yours. He took one of your hands and placed it over his stiff cock. “This is the effect you have on me, doll.”

You closed your hand around him, squeezing gently, earning yourself a sexy grin from Bucky. He leaned over you, his mouth to your ear. 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered. “But I’m going to let you be in charge.” His hands dropped to his sides. “So, what are you going to do with me?”

Your mind was reeling with the possibilities. From somewhere born of sexual frustration, need, and sheer bravery, you pushed Bucky onto the bed. He laughed as he fell, staring up at you, his eyes alight with amusement and desire. You slid your hands up his legs, caressing him. Bucky closed his eyes, his hips flexing.

“You’ll have to learn to keep still,” you scolded breathily.

His breath caught in his throat and he grinned at you. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, his eyes burning with need. “Condoms are in the dresser drawer.” You reached past him, opened the drawer, and pulled out a condom, dropping it on the bed beside his leg.

“Now what are you going to do?” he breathed, all trace of amusement gone.

You ran your hand up the inside of his leg and took hold of him, stroking him slowly. Bucky’s mouth dropped open as he drew in a sharp breath. You leaned forward, took him in your mouth, and sucked, hard. He closed his eyes, his hips jerking beneath you.

“Whoa, doll, easy,” he groaned.

You felt so powerful; it was exhilarating, teasing him with your mouth and tongue. He tensed as you ran your mouth up and down his length, swallowing him down until he was hitting the back of your throat, your mouth closed around him, lips tight, again and again until Bucky was panting and groaning.   

“Stop, baby,” he growled. “I don’t wanna come.”

You stopped and sat up, confused. Just a few minutes ago, he had put you in charge, and now he was telling you to stop.

Bucky took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. “Your enthusiasm is disarming,” he chuckled. “But I need to be inside of you, Y/N. Now.” He dragged in a deep breath. “I want you on top.” He handed you the foil condom packet. “Here, put this on.”

You took your time, concentrating as you opened the packet and rolled the condom down his shaft.

“Christ, doll, you’re killing me,” he groaned. “Come here, I want to be buried inside of you.”

You could only stare at him, apprehensive and unsure. The realization that you had no idea what you were doing suddenly dawned on you. You felt ridiculous.

Bucky sat up, so you were nose to nose. “I got you,” he breathed, snaking an arm around your hips, lifting you and positioning himself beneath you. He slowly eased into you, stretching you open, filling you, your body on fire from the agonizingly sweet and sublime feeling, your mouth falling open, a desperate moan leaving you.

“Hmm, that’s right doll,” he growled, his eyes drifting closed. He held you in place for a seemingly endless amount of time, until you thought you might faint from the intensity of feelings assaulting you. 

Bucky moved, flexing and swiveling his hips, drawing an obscene groan from you. The sensation radiated through your entire body. “Fuck,” you gasped, your own hips moving with his.

He fell to the bed, his hands settling on your hips. “You move, baby, any way you want, whatever feels good,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, low, and sexy. “Take my hands.”

You clasped his hands, holding on for dear life. Gently, you rose up and back down. Bucky’s eyes were burning with anticipation, his breathing ragged, like yours. He raised his hips as you came down, setting an easy rhythm, up and down, over and over. 

God, if felt good, the deep, brimming fullness, the insane sensation pulsing through you, building quickly. You watched him, your eyes locked with his, rocking faster and faster until you fell over the edge, climaxing around him. Bucky squeezed your hips, his eyes closed, his head tipped back, his jaw tight, a quiet groan coming from him as his own orgasm took him.

You collapsed on his chest, exhausted, spent, but you’d never felt so good. The things Bucky made you feel were intense, crazy, wonderful, and a little bit scary. You loved it. You couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you.


	5. Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky attend a dinner party at Stark Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from the last half of chapter 19 and chapter 20 in the first book.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Bucky asked.

He was sitting on the end of your bed, watching you as you got dressed, his eyes roving over your body, drinking you in. 

“Are you?” you murmured, watching him in the mirror. “Taking me to this dinner party in the city is kind of making us official.”

“Officially what?” Bucky chuckled. “Dating? Having sex? Friends with benefits?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “How exactly would you describe us, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I guess friends with benefits is the best description.” You didn’t like the queasy feeling rising from the pit of your stomach at your choice of words. “But don’t you think everyone will assume otherwise when we show up together? That they’ll assume we’re a couple?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think or what they assume,” he shrugged. “All that matters is what we think. Let them assume whatever they want.”

You straightened your dress one last time and turned around to face Bucky. He nodded briefly, then gestured for you to come to him. You walked the few short steps to stand in front of him, your fingers twisting nervously along the sides of your dress. He stared up at you as he put his hands on your bare legs and slowly slid them underneath the skirt and up your thighs. His fingers twisted in your panties, easing them down your legs, tapping your calf to get you to step out of them. He rose to his feet, tucked the panties into the pocket of his jeans, and held out his hand.

“Let’s go,” he grinned.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and took his hand, your body on fire from the all-too-brief interaction. He led you through the compound and outside to the vehicles waiting in the curved driveway. He opened the back door of the second SUV, helping you inside before climbing in behind you. Steve appeared a few minutes later and slid behind the wheel, while Sam took the passenger seat.

You shifted nervously in your seat, tugging at your skirt and crossing your legs. You weren’t sure what you’d been thinking when you’d allowed Bucky to take your panties. You were about to have dinner with the majority of the Avengers, including Tony Stark, who intimidated the hell out of you, and you weren’t wearing any underwear. In the safety of your room, it had seemed like a sexy, teasing idea, but now you were sitting in a car with Captain America and the Falcon and you didn’t have any underwear on.

Bucky peered down at you, his arm thrown casually over the back of the seat, the fingertips on his metal hand brushing your shoulder. You could feel the air thickening around you, sense the sexual charge building between you. The amused look vanished from Bucky’s face, replaced with something darker, sexier. He reached over, grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him, and placed a bruising kiss on your lips.

“Later,” he vowed quietly.

* * *

The ride into the city was relatively low key; the banter between the three friends kept you laughing for most of the trip. You found it interesting that neither Steve nor Sam commented on the rather obvious fact that you and Bucky were dating - for lack of a better word - though you did notice a couple of bemused glances exchanged among the trio. You were sure Bucky would get the third degree later.

“Are you ready for this?” Bucky asked you as Steve pulled into the parking garage of Stark Tower.

You nodded, smiling uneasily.

Bucky squeezed your hand, leaned over, and pressed his mouth to your ear. “Bet you wish you were wearing your underwear right now,” he teased.

Heat flooded your cheeks. You’d almost forgotten your stolen panties. Before you could say anything, Steve climbed from the car and opened your door. You scowled at Bucky before turning and getting out of the car.

“You okay, Y/N?” Steve asked, helping you to the ground.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled.

Bucky, of course, was grinning wickedly as you came around the back of the car, his hand held out for you to take. You took it, your eyes downcast, and what you hoped was a demure, shy look on your face. In truth, you weren’t sure you could make eye contact with either Steve or Sam without blushing furiously. You let Bucky lead you to the elevator, where Steve punched in a code, bringing it to the garage level. Once inside, you backed yourself into a corner, hoping to get some space, a step or two away from Bucky to catch your breath. He let you go, but his eyes never left yours, his smug smirk making you want to punch him in his perfect face. Fortunately, the elevator came to a stop before you could follow through with that thought.

Tony and Pepper were standing outside of the elevator when you emerged. You’d been working with Pepper for a few weeks, so she didn’t hesitate to greet you, pulling you into a warm hug. Tony shook your hand and smiled at you, welcoming you to the Tower. You’d never visited the Tower; in fact, you hadn’t left the compound in months. Pepper took your hand and dragged you after her into an impeccably decorated living room - floor to ceiling windows, plush carpet, beautiful deep burgundy sofas, and obviously expensive knick knacks almost haphazardly scattered about. Tony went straight to the bar, offering drinks all around.

Bucky stuck fairly close to you, never more than a few steps away; you did your best to ignore him, making small talk with Steve and Sam, or Pepper and Tony, or the late arrivals, Clint, Nat, and Wanda. Yet every time you looked his way, his eyes were on you, eating you alive. You could feel their weight almost constantly.

It wasn’t long before dinner was ready, a petite blonde entering the living room to announce that everyone should report to the dining room. You followed Pepper and Tony, falling in step with Bucky, his arm sliding possessively around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your temple and squeezed your hip. Once you were in the dining room, Bucky pulled out a chair for you, three seats to the right of Tony and across from Pepper, then he took the seat beside you, while Steve sat next to him.

Pepper disappeared, reappearing a few minutes later carrying two plates, followed by the same petite blonde you’d seen earlier. Her eyes immediately found Bucky’s, a blush coloring her cheeks as she gazed at him through her impossibly long eyelashes. She brushed too close to Bucky for your liking, but he seemed oblivious to her. You shot a glare his direction, as if it was his fault the girl was ogling him, earning yourself an irritated look in return.

He put his hand on your knee, his fingers traveling up your thigh. Your whole body tightened in response, heat flooding you as you shifted, trying to pull away from him. His hand clamped down on your leg, holding you in place, and you froze. Desperate for a distraction, you reached for your wine and quickly swallowed half the glass. When Blondie returned with the main course, her hips were swaying and she was shooting coy glances Bucky’s direction. You must have been making another face and Bucky must have noticed, because he was watching you closely, a questioning look in his eyes. Fortunately, Blondie didn’t linger long, once she had put the plates on the table, she hurried back through the door she had come through, a door you assumed led to the kitchen.

You could understand why Blondie couldn’t keep her eyes off of Bucky - you could have stared at him forever. He had a light stubble covering his cheeks and chin, and your fingers itched to scratch it, to feel it against your face, against your breasts, between your thighs. You blushed at the direction your thoughts have taken, shaking your head minutely at yourself. But just because you understood didn’t mean you liked it.

The conversation at the table turned to sports, baseball, of course. Bucky and Steve were Yankee fans, while Tony favored the Dodgers. Sam interjected a few times, throwing out his recently acquired love of the Washington Nationals. You attempted to feign interest in their conversation, but Bucky’s hand was still on your leg and it was proving to be very distracting, especially with the knowledge that you weren’t wearing underwear forefront in your mind. You weren’t quite sure how he was carrying on a conversation when his fingers were traveling up your thigh.

Your breath hitched and you pressed your thighs together, attempting to halt his progress. You could see him smirking out of the corner of your eye and you desperately wanted to punch him in his perfect face. Even after Steve asked him a question, drawing his attention back to the topic being discussed, his hand stayed on your leg, his fingers dancing along your inner thigh. By the time dinner was over, you were a quivering mess, so desperate for Bucky you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t muster more than a faint smile whenever anyone directed a question your way.

“How about I show you around the tower?” Bucky asked.

Before you could answer, he was on his feet and holding his hand out to you. You placed your hand in his, and you could feel the muscles deep in your gut clench, responding to Bucky’s dark, hungry gaze.

“Excuse us,” you murmured politely to Tony and Pepper and let Bucky lead you out of the dining room. He guided you down a hallway and through the kitchen, then down a back set of stairs. You went down several flights, finally emerging into a huge room, a gym of some sort.

Bucky wove his way through the equipment, coming to a stop in front of a door tucked in the back corner of the room. He reached to the top of the door jamb, grabbed a key, and unlocked the door. He pulled you inside and shut the door behind you, throwing the lock.

The room seemed to be a combination of an office and a small bedroom, there was a desk and chair, along with a filing cabinet in one corner, and a small couch, pulled out into a neatly made bed opposite the desk. The walls were bare, no momentos, no personal effects, everything starkly institutional.

“What is this?” you murmured.

“This is - was - my room when I first moved into the Tower,” Bucky explained. He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, metal hand clenching and unclenching as he spoke. “I couldn’t stomach being in one of the plush suites Stark calls a room. It was too...much. I was used to next to nothing or worse, being in a cryogenic freeze for months or years on end. I needed something familiar, suited to my mindset. This was all Stark had to offer.”

You circled the room, picturing Bucky alone in this room, no one with him, no one to love him, to care about him. It made your heart ache to think of it. You stopped in front of him, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away.

He held his hand out. “Come here,” he ordered.

You took his hand and let him pull you into his arms. You were mesmerized, watching Bucky like prey watches a predator, wary of every move, waiting for him to strike. His breathing was harsh, his blue eyes blazing with need and pure unadulterated lust. You tentatively reached up and ran your fingers down his cheek to the stubble on his chin, a curious mix of soft and prickly. Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his face into your touch, his breath hitching in his throat. With your other hand, you ran your fingers through his hair.

His soft moan was barely audible and when he opened his eyes, his look was wary, as if he didn’t understand what you were doing. You stepped closer, your body flush against his, and pulled gently on his hair, bringing his mouth down to yours, kissing him, forcing your tongue between his lips and into his mouth. He groaned, his arms slipping around you, pulling you into his embrace. His hands found their way into your hair, and he kissed you back, hard and possessive, your tongues twisting and turning together, consuming each other. He tasted like heaven.

Bucky pulled back suddenly, both of you gasping for air, your hands dropping to his arms. He stared down at you, a look you were fast beginning to recognize.

“Are you going to spank me?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asked.

Your eyes slipped closed and you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed.

Bucky’s breath blew your hair off of your forehead as he leaned over you. “And do you know why I want to spank you, Y/N?” he murmured.

“N-no,” you stammered.

“At the dinner table,” Bucky said. “You told me no, when you closed your legs, when you wouldn’t let me touch you. No one has ever said no to me before. It was so...hot.” His hand slid down your waist to cup your ass, pulling you sharply against him, his obvious erection pressing into you.

“You’re angry and turned on because I said no?” you breathed.

“Because you closed your legs on me,” Bucky replied, his eyes glittering dangerously, his fingers slowly inching up the hem of your dress. “I want you and I want you now. But I’m not going to spank you - even though you deserve it - because that’s what you want. So, instead, I’m going to fuck you on that couch right there.” 

Your dress was barely covering your naked ass as you squirmed uncontrollably in Bucky’s arms, his words unbelievably sexy. He moved suddenly, his hand sliding around you to cup your sex, one finger sinking into you. His other arm held you firmly in place. You had to suppress a moan as he thrust his finger agonizingly slow.

“This is mine,” he whispered. “ _ You _ are mine. Do you understand?” He eased his finger in and out as he gazed down at you, gauging your reaction, his eyes burning with need. 

“Yes, yours,” you breathed as desire, hot and heavy, surged through your bloodstream, affecting every inch of you - your nerve endings, your breathing, even your heart was pounding, trying to leave your chest, the blood thrumming your ears.

Abruptly, he moved, withdrawing his fingers and leaving you wanting. He pushed you down onto the couch, opening his pants before he leaned over you. “Put your hands above your head,” he commanded as he took one of the familiar foil packets out of the pocket of his jeans, then he shrugged off the jacket he was wearing, letting it fall to the floor. He pulled his cock free, pumping himself several times before sliding the condom down his length.

You did as he ordered, placing your hands over your head, knowing it was so you wouldn’t touch him. Your body was already responding to him, your hips moving to meet his, wanting him inside of you, wanting it rough and hard. The anticipation was killing you.

“We don’t have long, doll,” he growled. “This will be quick.”

With one swift thrust, he was fully inside of you. You groaned loudly, reveling in the fullness of his possession. He put his hands on top of yours, his arms holding yours in place above your head. It was intoxicating, this power you held over him, what you were able to do to him, how you could get him riled up so easily. It was a hedonistic, triumphant feeling.

Bucky moved quickly, his hips pumping wildly, his breathing harsh in your ear, and of course, your body responded, melting around him. You met him, thrust for thrust, a perfect counterpoint, hitting your peak immediately, the coil deep in pit of your stomach snapping, the orgasm exploding out of you. He pounded into you, stilling as he found his own release, air hissing through his teeth. He relaxed momentarily, his entire delicious, warm body weight resting on you.

It was over far too soon, even though you weren’t ready to let him go, he withdrew, leaving you feeling empty. He stood and removed the condom, knotting it and tossing it in a trash can beside the desk. You watched him, your breathing erratic, your body unexpectedly aching for him. Apparently, you couldn’t get enough of Bucky Barnes.

“We better get back,” he said, turning to you, his expression soft.

You sat up, a little unsteady, dazed. Bucky was at your side in an instant, helping you to your feet.

“Here,” he murmured, “you can put these on.” He pulled your panties from his jacket pocket and held them out to you. You tried not to grin as you took them; it was a small victory; you hadn’t had to ask for them.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted from somewhere outside the locked door.

Bucky turned, his eyebrows raised, a smirk on his face. “Just in time,” he winked.

You scowled at him, hastily pulled your panties back on, and stood with as much dignity as you could muster in your just-fucked state. You attempted to smooth your just-fucked hair as well, though you were fairly confident it didn’t help.

“In here, Steve,” Bucky called, striding across the room to unlock the door. He turned back to you. “Well, Ms. Y/L/N, I feel better, but I still want to spank you.”

“You and your twitchy palm,” you giggled.

Bucky cocked his head to one side and smiled at you just as Steve strode through the door.

“Hey, we’re getting ready to head out,” Steve smiled. “You two about ready to go?”

“I think Y/N has seen enough,” Bucky said without missing a beat, completely poker-faced. “Let’s go say goodbye to everyone.” He turned to follow Steve, pushing you in front of him, swatting your behind.

You bit your lip to hold back the gasp of surprise, shooting him a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I will do it again, doll, and soon,” he whispered close to your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you followed Steve upstairs, where you and Bucky said your goodbyes, along with Sam and Steve, then you took the elevator back down to the parking garage, your hand held loosely in Bucky’s. You were tired and you wanted to sleep, but you also wanted Bucky, a feeling you were quickly becoming accustomed to. He was like a drug and you were the addict. You were falling for him and you were falling fast. The thought scared the shit out of you.

Bucky helped you into the car, pulling you into his arms, your head on his shoulder. He rested his head against yours, his lips close to your ear.

“You okay, doll?” he whispered. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“About?” Bucky asked.

“Us,” you murmured.

“You said you’d try,” he sighed. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“Maybe,” you sighed.

Bucky shifted in his seat. “Why?”

How had this suddenly become such an intense and meaningful conversation? It was like having a surprise exam sprung on you, one you weren’t prepared for. You weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him you loved him, but you were afraid he only saw you as a toy? Should you tell him that sometimes he frightened you, that you were afraid to touch him, to show him affection? You stared out the window; the SUV was crossing the bridge. You were both shrouded in darkness, allowing you to mask your thoughts and feelings, though neither of you needed the shadow of the night to do that.

“Y/N?” Bucky pressed you for answer.

You shrugged, trapped. You didn’t want to lose him, because in spite of all of his demands, his need to be in control, his vices, you had never felt more alive. Bucky was unpredictable, sexy, smart, and funny. And he was a mystery. You closed your eyes. What could you say? Deep down, you knew you wanted more - more affection, more playful, fun Bucky, more love.

He squeezed your hand. “Talk to me, doll. I don’t want to lose you. These last couple of weeks…”

The car was almost to the end of the bridge, the road bathed in the neon light from the street lamps, Bucky’s face intermittently in the light and then the dark, a metaphor for the man he was.. This man, whom you believed to be a hero, had a dark side. He was a man with serious, deep emotional flaws, and you were afraid he would drag you into the dark.

“I want more,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said. “And I promise to try.”

You blinked up at him, your brow furrowed in surprise. You weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly. “Wh-what did you say?”

“For you, doll, I’ll try,” he repeated, the sincerity of his words evident in the tone of his voice.

You turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck, practically clambering into his lap, and kissed him, long and hard. Of course, he responded, dragging his hands up your sides to cup your face in his hands, his metal thumb brushing at the unexpected tears sliding down your cheeks.

“I’ll try, too,” you promised. “The rules, all of it, whatever you want.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You returned to sitting beside him, your head on his shoulder, your hand resting on his leg, always conscious of the scars he didn’t want touched. You nuzzled up against him, your eyes closed, your nose at his throat, drinking in his masculine scent, a scent that made you heady with desire. You felt yourself drifting, in and out of sleep, Bucky’s breathing, along with Steve and Sam’s voices murmuring softly in the background, lulling you into a state of semi-consciousness.

Bucky shook you gently when the car pulled to a stop in the compound’s circular drive, then he helped you from the car, practically picking you up and setting you on your feet. You shivered as the cool night air hit you, which earned you a critical assessment from Bucky, his eyes roaming over your body, a frown on his face.

“Why don’t you have a jacket?” he frowned, shrugging out of his and draping it over your shoulders.

“I forgot it,” you replied, stifling a yawn.

“Tired, doll?”

“Yes, sir,” you murmured, suddenly feeling shy beneath his obviously teasing scrutiny.

Bucky smirked and took your hand, bidding his friends good night over his shoulder before ushering you inside. You obediently followed him through the halls, expecting him to take you to his room, but instead he stopped in front of your door.

“You’re tired, Y/N. You need to get some sleep.” He bent down to kiss you, his teeth gently tugging at your lower lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth, the kiss sensual, perfect.

You melted into him, your breath catching in your throat as your insides unfurled with longing. You returned the kiss, your tongue dancing over his lips, teasing him. You wondered if you could convince him to come inside.

Bucky groaned, but he held his ground, pushing you away, his hands on your upper arms. “Get some sleep, doll,” he growled. He brushed his lips lightly across yours one more time before sauntering off down the hallway.


	6. A Serious Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an interesting evening spent with Natasha and Wanda, you and Bucky have a serious conversation.

Title:  Fifty Shades of Bucky:

You’d been drinking, a lot, a girls only night in with Natasha and Wanda. You hadn’t expected to be invited, so when Wanda swung by the office to ask you if you’d like to hang out with them and watch movies and have margaritas, you’d been surprised. You’d readily agreed.

The three of you had settled into the main living area, barring “the boys” from coming in, no matter how much they’d begged. Natasha had even sent Bucky and Steve on their way, refusing to let them in. Bucky had shot you a questioning look over Nat’s shoulder, but all you could do was shrug and smile.

Of course, the questions had started almost immediately, Wanda leading the interrogation, while Natasha sat back with an indecipherable look on her face, one perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked in perpetual confusion. Were you and Bucky a “thing?” Did you love him? Did he love you? How long had it been going on?. Question after question until you thought your head would explode. You gave the vaguest answers possible, while still trying to appease the girls. They’d seemed satisfied, though Nat kept tossing questioning glances your way until you couldn’t stand it anymore. As soon as Wanda excused herself to go to the restroom, you turned to the redheaded assassin.

“What, Nat?” you sighed, exasperated. “”What is it you want to know?”

Nat rolled her eyes and blew out a breath, her bangs lifting slightly from the movement of air. “Okay, but don’t be mad or offended, okay?”

“Okay,” you dragged the word out, uncertain if you could keep that promise.

“Why you?” she asked. “How on earth did you end up with someone like Bucky?”

“What?” you mumbled. “What do you mean, ‘someone like Bucky?’”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Bucky’s a dominant, Y/N. You know that, right?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and nodded. “Y-you know that he’s a dom?” you whispered.

Nat waved her hand, as if the question were ridiculous. “Of course I know,” she shrugged. “My point is, are you sure you can handle that and everything it means?”

“I seem to be holding my own,” you replied, your tone icy.

“We’ll see,” she muttered, her mouth snapping shut when Wanda breezed through the door.

Two movies and several pitchers of margaritas later, you made your way through the halls, heading for your room. Your head was still spinning from your discussion with Nat and all the questions it had brought to the forefront of your brain. First and foremost, how did Natasha know Bucky was a dominant and why did she seem to think you couldn’t handle him? Your head was so busy examining those questions over and over that when you rounded the corner near your room, you ran right into Bucky.

You stumbled, falling against him, a startled gasp escaping you. “Hi,” you murmured, gazing up at him.

“Hi,” he chuckled, his arm sliding around your waist, hugging you close. “You okay, doll?”

“Just a little tipsy,” you shrugged.

“Where you going?” Bucky asked.

“Back to my room,” you replied. “Unless...unless you want me to go to yours?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he laughed. He caught your hand in his and led you back down the hall to his room - an apartment really, it was definitely bigger than your one room and bathroom - Bucky kicked the door closed, turned to you, and placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Come take a bath with me,” he said, no room for argument in the tone of his voice.

“Y-yes sir,” you nodded, letting him lead you into the bathroom.

Bucky closed the bathroom door, then he turned to look at you. “I like your skirt,” he smirked. “It’s very short.” He stepped out of his shoes and stripped off his socks, his eyes never leaving yours.

You were rendered speechless by the look of hunger in his eyes. You mirrored his actions, stepping out of your black flats. He reached for you, backing you up against the wall, kissing you, your face, your throat, your lips, running his hands through your hair. You felt the cool, smooth, tiled wall at your back as he pushed himself against you, flattening you between the heat of his body and the chill of the ceramic.

“I want you. Now,” he growled. His thumbs hooked in your white cotton panties and he dropped to his knees as he tugged them off. 

Your skirt was pulled up, leaving you naked from the waist down, panting, wanting. Bucky grabbed your hips, pushing you against the wall again, his lips drifting down your hips to the apex of your thighs. Wrapping his hands around your legs, he pushed them open. You groaned at the first touch of his tongue, your head falling back against the wall, your fingers tangling in his hair. He was relentless, strong and insistent, devouring you as if you were a treat to be savored, two fingers sliding in beside his tongue. The intensity of feeling was so exquisite, it was almost painful. Your body, already so attuned to Bucky and his attentions, started to quicken almost immediately, but before you could come, he released you.

Your breathing was ragged as you gazed down at him with delicious anticipation. Bucky slowly rose to his feet, grabbed your face with both hands, holding you firmly, and he kissed you, hard, thrusting his tongue into your mouth, the taste of you thick on his tongue.

He opened his jeans, freeing himself and sliding a condom down his length, then he picked you, holding you against the wall. “Wrap your legs around me, doll,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire, strained, urgent. 

You did as you were told, your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck, fingers back in his hair. He entered you, the feeling quick and sharp, filling you completely. He groaned, his forehead resting on your shoulder for just a moment, before he started to move, slowly at first, a steady, even tempo, until his control unraveled, his speed increasing, faster and faster, pushing you higher and higher until you couldn’t take it anymore and you exploded around him, spiralling into an intense, all-consuming orgasm.

Bucky let go with a deep growl, his face pressed against the side of your neck as he buried himself inside of you, groaning loudly and incoherently as he found his release. His breath was tearing in and out of his throat, but he kissed you, sweet and tender. He gently pulled out of you, holding you steady while you put your feet on the floor.

“You seem pleased to see me,” you murmured.

“Yeah, doll, I think my pleasure is more than obvious,” Bucky chuckled. “Come on, let’s get in the tub.” He stepped away from you, long enough to get the water filling the bathtub, then he was back in front of you, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, followed by his jeans and boxers. “Did you have fun with Romanoff and Wanda?”

“Yes,” you nodded, smiling as he slowly peeled you out of your blouse, tossing it into the pile of clothes with his own. “It was nice of them to invite me.” Even if you felt as if you’d gotten the third degree from Nat, not that you would mention that to Bucky.

“It was,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. He straightened up and took a small step backwards. “Turn around,” he ordered.

His casual command threw you, but you did as he ordered, shivering as his fingers slid down your spine. He undid your bra and the zipper on your skirt, cupping your ass and kissing your shoulder. He leaned against you, his nose nuzzling your hair, inhaling deeply as he squeezed your ass.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N,” he whispered against the side of your neck. “But you keep me calm, too. It’s exhilarating.”

Once your clothes were removed, Bucky led you to the bathtub. You stepped in, sighing as the deliciously warm and soothing water washed over you and you melted into the fragrant foam. You stared up at Bucky, a question on your lips, a question you were afraid to ask, but the alcohol you’d had earlier had apparently obliterated the filter between your mouth and your head. 

“Did you have sex with Natasha?” you blurted.

Bucky sighed as he stepped into the bath opposite you, his jaw clenched with tension, his blue eyes cold, frosty. He was careful not to touch you as he eased into the water, making you wonder if you had angered him with your question. He stared impassively at you, his face unreadable, silent. You stared back, not budging. You wanted an answer.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Bucky nodded, just a tip of his chin really, but enough to be an answer.

You bit your lip and dropped your gaze. Of course he’d slept with Natasha; she was stunning, confident, and vibrant, while you were the polar opposite of that.

Bucky cleared his throat and bumped your leg with his. “Look at me, Y/N,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, raising your head to look at the man you were half in love with sitting across from you.

“Yes, I had sex with Nat,” he said. “But it didn’t last long, a few weeks, maybe. We mutually decided it wouldn’t work between us, so we broke it off. We’re friends.”

“She-she wasn’t into the dom/sub thing?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head, a laugh bursting out of him. “Not exactly,” he answered. “Look, you can’t tell her I told you this, but Nat’s a dom, too. It didn’t work for either of us; we both need to be in control.”

“Did you...did you love her?” you whispered.

“She’s my friend, Y/N,” he snapped.

“That’s not what I asked,” you muttered. “Did you love her? And does she love you?”

“I love her like a friend,” Bucky shrugged. “As for her loving me? I don’t think so, not like that, not like you mean.” He frowned, as if he hadn’t thought about the idea. “It’s in the past. I couldn’t change it even if I wanted to, which I don’t.” He ran a wet hand through his hair and blew out an exasperated breath. “I never talk about stuff like this, Y/N, you know, my past relationships. And the only reason I’m talking about it now, with you, is because I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” you murmured. “But I want to know you better, except whenever I try to talk to you, you...you distract me.”

Bucky scrubbed his wet hand over his face. “What do you want to know?” His eyes blazed and though he didn’t raise his voice, you could tell he was trying to keep his temper in check.

“I just want to try and understand you,” you explained. “You’re an enigma, unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I appreciate it when you open up to me, but -”

“You want more,” Bucky said. “I know, doll. And I’m trying.”

You couldn’t bear the distance between you - it felt like he was a million miles away. The multitude of margaritas you’d had must have made you brave, because you moved through the water, sliding between his legs, your hands on his thighs. Bucky tensed and eyed you warily, shifting nervously.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” you whispered.

“I’m not angry with you, doll,” he sighed. “I’m just not used to discussing this kind of stuff. I’ve only talked to a few people about...how I am...just Steve and -” His mouth snapped closed.

“Natasha?” you prodded. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I-I still do.”

“About what?” you asked.

“Y/N, that’s enough,” he snapped, sternly, his eyes narrowing. “I have no sexual or romantic interest in Natasha whatsoever. She’s a friend and a co-worker. That’s all. Yes, we have a past, a shared history, but that part of our relationship is over. Period. End of discussion.”

“I have one more question,” you murmured. “Not about Nat, I promise.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine. One question.”

“Why me?”

Bucky’s head tipped to one side, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “What do you mean, why you?”

“I mean, why me? Why are we doing this?” You gestured between the two of you. “Why choose me when you could have literally any woman on earth? For God’s sake, you were with Natasha, and now you’re with...well, me. That’s a serious step down.”

Bucky grabbed your hands, leaning closer, his eyes flashing. “That’s bullshit,” he growled. “I chose you. You’ve done something to me, Y/N, I don’t know what, I don’t know how, but you did. I want you. The ‘why’ doesn’t matter, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered. “But you’ve got me all tied up in knots here.”

“I like you tied up in knots,” he smirked.

“That’s not what I meant,” you giggled, splashing him. 

He gazed down at you, arching an eyebrow. “Did you just splash me?” He grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, sloshing water all over the floor. “I think that’s enough talking for now.” 

He clasped his hands on either side of your head and kissed you, deeply, possessing you, controlling you. You moaned against his lips. This was what he liked, what he was so good at. Everything ignited inside of you and you were kissing him back, your body telling him you wanted him. Bucky groaned, shifting you so you were astride him, kneeling over him, his hard cock trapped between your bodies. He pulled back and looked at you, his eyes dark and hooded, filled with lust. You put your hands on the edge of the tub, but he grabbed them and pulled them behind your back, holding your wrists together in his metal hand.

“I’m gonna fuck you, doll,” he murmured.

“Condom?” you gasped.

“Fuck, I don’t have one,” he growled, his head falling against the edge of the tub. The fingers of his free hand tangled in your hair, dragging you close, his lips catching yours in a sinful kiss. He shifted, his cock dragging against the lips of your pussy, a deep moan leaving you.

Unable to control yourself, you ground down against Bucky, squirming and panting. He flexed his hips and you gasped, leaning forward, resting your forehead against his.

“Please let go of my hands,” you whispered.

“Don’t touch me,” he instructed, releasing your wrists, his hands settling on your hips.

You grabbed the edge of the tub and rocked slowly against him. He was watching you, his mouth open, his breathing halted, stilted, his tongue caught between his teeth. You were wet and slippery and moving against each other, the erotic sensation, the decadence of it, sending you spiraling out of control. You leaned over him, kissing him, your hands back in his hair, tugging a little, already disobeying his no touching order, but he didn’t scold you, instead allowing it. You moved together, you riding him, out of control, getting off on what you were doing, surprised that even though it wasn’t sex in the traditional sense, it was still incredibly satisfying, Bucky’s hand slipped between your legs, two fingers pressed to your clit, circling it, caressing it, driving you crazy with desire. You were nothing more than wet mouths and tongues, tangled hair, and moving hips, all sensation, all consuming. You were close, the delicious tightening deep in your gut all too familiar. The water was swirling around you, a stirring vortex as your movements became more frantic, splashing everywhere, mirroring what was happening inside of you.

“That’s right, doll,” Bucky breathed, sitting up, his arms sliding around you, crushing you to his chest as the orgasm ripped through you, a turbulent, passionate climax that devoured you whole.

You collapsed against him, hiding your face against the side of his neck, embarrassed by the reaction you’d had to him, the way you’d reacted to his touch. How was that even possible? You’d had an amazing orgasm and Bucky, well, he’d gotten nothing out of it.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

“But, I wasn’t...I mean, you didn’t...” you stammered.

Bucky took hold of your upper arms and pushed you away from him. The look on his face was stern, almost frightening. “I didn’t,” he said, “but I’m not done with you. Get out of the tub.”

Even though you felt weak in the knees, you clambered out of the tub and grabbed a towel. Bucky was right behind you, quickly drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his waist. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently for you to do the same. 

“My turn,” he growled, snatching your hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.


	7. Riding Crop and Leather Restraints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's takes your sexual training to a new level.

“My turn,” he growled, snatching your hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

You followed Bucky, compliant, and a little anxious. Because you weren’t sure what he had in mind, your stomach was twisting nervously. You sucked in a deep breath, hoping to calm your pounding heart.

Bucky stopped at the end of the bed, turning to you and pulling the towel off of you, tossing it on a chair in the corner. He eyed you up and down, then he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He took you by the shoulders, turned you so you were facing the bed, and positioned you apparently right where he wanted you.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

He disappeared from your side. You could hear him rummaging around behind you, though you weren’t sure what he was doing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the towel that had been around his waist land on the chair beside yours, then the sound of Bucky putting on something. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, trying to concentrate on the sound of the rain falling outside and your heart pounding in your chest.

“Alright, Y/N, turn around,” he said, right by your ear.

You jumped, startled by his sudden reappearance, but you did as instructed. He was dressed, sort of, wearing a pair of tight, well-worn, black sweatpants, his arousal obvious beneath the cotton fabric.

“Give me your hand.”

Again, you did as Bucky said, holding out your hand. He turned it palm up and swatted the center of it with a riding crop, which you hadn’t noticed he was holding in his right hand. It happened so quickly that the surprise hardly registered. But even more astonishing, it didn’t hurt, not really, just a slight sting.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

You blinked at him, confused.

“Did that hurt?” he prodded.

“No,” you shook your head.

“This is not going to hurt,” Bucky explained. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you murmured, still uncertain, wondering if it wasn’t really going to hurt.

“I mean it,” he said. “It won’t hurt, not like you’re thinking it will. I promise.” He tossed it on the bed, then he held up his other hand. Dangling from his fingers was a set of what looked like shackles with black leather cuffs. “Hold out your hands.”

You obliged immediately. This was beyond fascinating, beyond erotic. It was singularly the most exciting and scary thing you had ever done. You were entrusting yourself to this man, who by his own admission, was completely fucked up. You suppressed the brief thrill of fear. Bucky would never hurt you.

He stood very close as he fastened the cuffs; just having him this close was enough to drive you insane. You realized you were staring at his chest and you found yourself wanting to run your nose and tongue across his defined pecs.

Bucky stepped back and gazed at you, his expression hooded, salacious, carnal. He pulled your arms above your head, looping the chain on a hook at the top of the bedpost, one you hadn’t realized was there. You felt helpless, but not scared, not like you’d thought you would. You knew Bucky wouldn’t hurt you; you had no reason to be afraid of him.

“We need a safe word,” he whispered, one hand above your head, leaning over you.

“A wh-what?” you mumbled.

“A safeword is a way for you to tell me that I’ve crossed a line, whether it’s a physical one or even an emotional one,” Bucky explained. “If you say it, I will stop immediately, no matter what.”

“And you won’t be angry?” you asked.

“No, doll, I won’t be angry,” he replied. “I promise.”

“Petunias,” you blurted.

“Petunias?” Bucky smirked.

“It was the first thing I thought of,” you said.

“Petunias it is,” he smiled. He reached past you and picked up the riding crop, his eyes never straying from yours. “You look beautiful, Y/N,” he purred, his nose sliding along the edge of your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

Bucky took a step back and pointed the end of the riding crop at your belly button, leisurely circling it, tantalizing you. At the touch of the leather, you quivered and gasped. He took a couple of steps to your left, trailing the crop around the middle of your body. Suddenly, he flicked the crop, hitting you across one ass cheek.

You cried out in surprise, all of your nerve endings standing at attention. You pulled against the restraints, the shock running through you. It was the sweetest, strangest, most hedonistic thing you had ever felt.

“Be quiet,” Bucky whispered as he walked around you, the crop slightly higher around the middle of your body.

He did it again, hitting you in the same spot, but you were anticipating it. Your body convulsed at the sweet, stinging bite. He stepped in front of you and flicked the crop again, this time hitting your nipple. You threw your head back as your nerve endings sang. He hit the other, a brief, swift chastisement. Your nipples hardened and elongated from the assault and you moaned loudly, pulling on the leather cuffs.

“Does that feel good?” Bucky breathed.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He hit you again, right across your ass, the crop stinging.

“Yes, what?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered. You closed your eyes as you tried to absorb the myriad of sensations coursing through your body.

Very slowly, he rained small, biting licks of the crop down your stomach. You knew where it was leading, and you tried to psych yourself up for it, but when the crop hit your sex, you cried out loudly.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned. You hadn’t expected it to feel that _good_ . 

“What did I tell you?” he demanded. The crop made an odd whistling sound as it flew through the air and connected with your ass again. “Be quiet.”

You hadn’t expected it to be like this. You were lost in a sea of sensation, nearly drowning in the intense pleasure Bucky was eliciting. He dragged the crop against your pussy, down to your entrance, leaning over you, his lips on your throat, sucking wildly at your pulse point. He grabbed your chin in his hand, turning your head and catching your lips in his, kissing you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you against him, crushing you to his chest. You itched to touch him, but you couldn’t, not with your hands secured above your head.

“Do you want me to make you come?” he breathed.

“Please,” you begged. The crop swished through the air, connecting with your ass, a sharp sting on your right butt cheek.

“Please, what?” Bucky growled.

“Please, sir,” you gasped.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking sternly at you.

You were nodding, your body desperate for relief. “Yes, sir. Please.”

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, pressing an almost chaste kiss to your cheek.

You did as he asked, closing your eyes, shutting out the room, him, the crop. He started with small, biting licks of the crop against your stomach, then he moved down, soft, tiny taps to your sex, once, twice, again and again until you couldn’t take any more and you were coming, gloriously, loudly, sagging weakly, the only thing holding you was the restraints.

Bucky’s arms curled around you and you dissolved in his embrace, your head against his chest. You were mewling and whimpering a little as the aftershocks of the orgasm consumed you. Bucky released you and pushed down his sweatpants, just enough to free his heavy cock. He slid a condom down the length, then his hands were on your thighs, lifting you.

“Just like before, doll,” he murmured. “Legs around my waist.”

You felt weak, but you did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his hips. He positioned himself beneath you and with one hard thrust, he was inside of you, his muffled moan echoing in your ear. God, it was so deep this way, so perfect, the way he was buried to the hilt inside of you. Bucky pumped his hips, pounding into you over and over again, his face pressed against your neck, his harsh breathing at your throat. You could feel another orgasm building and building, though you weren’t sure your body could withstand another earth shattering climax.

Of course, you had no choice, and with an inevitability that was becoming familiar, you let go, coming again. It was sweet, agonizingly pleasurable, and intense. You seemed to lose all sense of yourself.

Bucky followed, shouting his release through clenched teeth, holding close and tight as he came. He pulled out of you, his body supporting yours, reached up, and unbuckled the cuffs, freeing your hands. He wrapped his arms around you and sank to the floor. Bucky held you on his lap, cradling you, and you leaned your head against his chest. If you’d had the strength, you would have touched him, but as it was, for the moment, you were content to lie in his arms.

“Well done, doll,” he praised softly. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” you exhaled. You could barely keep your eyes open; you were exhausted.

“Did you expect it to?” he asked, holding you close, peppering your face with tender, featherlike kisses.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“But would you do it again?” The fingers of his metal hand were stroking your stomach, gentle caresses that made your skin prickle with desire.

You had to think for a moment as fatigue clouded your brain. “Yes,” you finally whispered.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You were leaning against him, your eyes closed, his arms and legs wrapped around you. You had never felt safer or more comfortable. You turned your face into Bucky’s chest, inhaling deeply, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle him, your face just inches away from his scars.

Bucky immediately tensed and you instantly regret what you’d done. You glanced up at him, his icy blue eyes meeting yours.

“Don’t,” he warned.

You nodded, but you couldn’t help but look at his chest, longing rocketing through you, longing to touch and caress his scars, longing to show him that they were just another part of him that you loved. There was that word again - love. You were beginning to realize that there was no escaping it. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily.

“I’d say you are thoroughly fucked and in need of sleep, Y/N,” Bucky murmured softly. He gently lifted you off of him, set you on the floor, and rose to his feet. He pulled his sweatpants back into place before crossing the room and opening one of his dresser drawers. He was back at your side in just a few seconds, a soft t-shirt in his hand. He patiently helped you into it as you were too tired to even lift your arms.

Once you were covered and somewhat respectable - you still weren’t wearing any underwear - Bucky leaned down and kissed you gently, his mouth quirking up in a smile.

“Bed,” he said.

You moaned and shook your head.

“For sleep,” he chuckled. He scooped you up and carried you, curled against his chest, to his bed. Your head dropped against his chest, your eyes drifting closed. You couldn’t remember ever being this tired.

Bucky pulled back the blankets, laid you down, and to your surprise, he climbed in beside you and hugged you close, your back to his chest.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he whispered and kissed your hair.

Before you could say anything, you were asleep.


	8. The Accidental Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky visits you in your office and you overhear a conversation that leaves you reeling.

You glanced up at the sound of the office door opening, wondering if Pepper had returned early from her meeting in the city. Instead your eyes met icy blue ones, and a sexy smile on a perfect face. You were rendered speechless, your insides melting at the sight of him. Bucky was without a doubt the most beautiful man on the planet, too beautiful to be with someone like you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. That wasn’t true; he was with you. He was yours. Sort of. At least as much as he was willing to be yours. The idea sent a thrill through your blood, dispelling your irrational self-doubt.

You hung up the phone and pushed away from the desk, rising to your feet. You had only been working for Pepper for a few months, ever since you had come to the compound. You’d wanted to help, wanted something to do, and seeing as how you weren’t blessed with the same talents as the other people living there, you’d helped in the only way you knew how - working in the office.

Not that it wasn’t important work, you just didn’t feel like you were saving the world answering phones, taking messages, and keeping the supplies in the compound stocked. Pepper kept telling you it was important, but you didn’t see how it was as important as say, what Natasha and Wanda did.

Bucky walked around the desk to stand in front of you. He gently stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling down at you.

“I woke up and you were gone,” you murmured.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” you replied. “Did you?”

Bucky ignored the question, leaned down, and kissed you. He pulled you flush against him, his arms sliding around your waist and down to cup your ass, a low groan in his throat, his tongue exploring your mouth.

When he released you, his eyes were hooded, dark with lust. “Sleep seems to agree with you,” he murmured. He kissed along the edge of your jaw to your ear. “I want to lay you across this desk, right now, and fuck you senseless.”

“Mmm, okay,” you whispered recklessly, desire sweeping like adrenaline through you, waking every nerve ending.

Bucky stared down at you, bewildered, for maybe a millisecond. “You’ve really got a taste for this, don’t you, doll?” he chuckled. “You’re becoming insatiable.”

“Only for you,” you laughed.

His eyes widened, darkened, while his hands slowly caressed your ass. “Damn right, only me,” he growled. With one fluid movement, he cleared the papers off of the desk, sending them scattering across the floor. He swept you into his arms and laid you across the short end of the desk, so that your head was almost off the edge. He pushed your skirt up, bunching it around your waist, and twisted his metal fingers in your panties, quickly yanking them off of you.

His lips were traveling all over your neck, your shoulders, then his tongue was in your mouth, his hand between your legs, teasing you. You moaned, opening your legs for him, gasping as he slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them slowly. Your hips came up, pushing against his fingers, your eyes closed, your head thrown back, the pleasure exploding through you.

“Bucky -” you gasped.

“You want it, doll?” he muttered.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned.

Bucky stood up, yanked a condom out of the pocket of his jeans and unzipped his pants. He pulled himself free and rolled the condom down his length. A moment later, he was filling you, holding your wrists tightly at your side, thrusting into you, deep and hard.

“Christ, Y/N, you’re so tight and wet,” he whispered.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him the only way you could while he stared down at you, his blue eyes flashing, passionate, possessive. He started to move, really move, hard and fast. You were out of your mind with need and desire; this wasn’t making love, this was fucking, just like he’d said. And you loved it. It was raw, carnal, and it made you feel wanton, sexy, wanted, needed. You reveled in his possession, the lust, the need pouring out of him. 

Bucky moved with ease, indulgent, obviously enjoying every second of what he was doing. His lips were slightly parted, his breath tearing in and out of his throat. It was exquisite, the sight of him wrecked, needing only you.

You closed your eyes, that delicious, slow, step by step build consuming you, pushing you higher and higher. His strokes increased, even harder, deeper, drawing a moan from you. You were all sensation, enjoying every thrust, every push that had him filling you completely. Bucky picked up the pace, your whole body moving to his rhythm. You could feel it coming - your legs stiffening, your insides quivering and quickening.

“Come on, doll, come for me,” Bucky cajoled through gritted teeth. The fervent need, the strain, the lust and desire in his voice sent you over the edge.

You let loose a wordless, passionate plea, your body caught in an explosion of pure light, the orgasm consuming you. Bucky slammed into you, his own climax taking him, your wrists locked in his hands, held at your sides, even as he sank into you, burying himself deep inside you as he came.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he breathed against the side of your neck when it was over.

Bucky released your wrists, so you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, your legs tightening around him. “I could ask you the same question,” you murmured.

Bucky’s face changed, shifted. He grabbed your chin, holding it in place, staring into your eyes. “You are mine,” he said. “Do you understand?” He seemed so earnest, so impassioned. The force of his plea was unexpected, disarming.

“Yes, yours,” you whispered, feeling derailed by the intensity of his words, of his expression.

He kissed you roughly, then he stood and held out his hand to help you up. You rose to your feet, your skirt falling back into place. Bucky tossed the condom in the trash, burying it under some papers, then he snatched your panties off the floor and handed them to you.

“That was unexpected,” you smiled as you slipped them back on. “Never had sex on a desk before.”

Bucky stepped close to you, a smirk on his face. “There’s a lot of things you’ve never done, doll.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I need to go shower. I’ll see you later.”

You nodded, turning your head to brush your lips against his, earning a smile in return before he stepped out the door. You hurried to pick up the papers scattered across the floor, grinning to yourself as you did. Once everything was back in order, you grabbed a file from one of the cabinets and crossed the room. The door was open a couple of inches and you could hear voices in the hall.

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to her,” you heard Natasha say.

You took a step back, peering through the crack. Bucky and Natasha were standing outside of Captain Rogers’ office. Bucky had his back to you and Natasha, well, she was standing closer to Bucky than you cared for.

“Whatever, Romanoff,” Bucky shrugged. “It’s not your problem to worry about.”

Natasha pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawn together in irritation. “You were just in there fucking her, weren’t you?”

Bucky’s head moved, just a little, a nod, maybe. His shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched at his side. Even you could tell he was irritated, so why couldn’t Nat?

“I thought so. You know, I’ve seen you look more satisfied,” she purred, taking another step closer to Bucky. “Like, when we were together. Remember, Buck? We were good together.”

“No, we weren’t,” Bucky grunted.

“I can be what you need, Дорогой,” Natasha murmured. “Not her, not that….девственница. She doesn’t know what it takes to keep you satisfied. Not like I do.” She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, down his stomach.

Bucky didn’t even flinch.

You stepped back, quietly pushing the door closed, sagging against it, your forehead resting on the wood. Natasha had touched him. She had reached out and ran her fingers down his chest, the scars on his left side, and he had done nothing to stop her. Nothing.

You spun on your heels and raced through the office and the attached conference room, bursting through the door on the opposite side and speeding down the hallway through the compound to the living quarters. Your breath was tearing in and out of your throat, tears blurring your vision. You barely heard your name being called from somewhere behind you as you slid around the corner into your room. You violently pushed the door closed, waiting for the satisfying slam, but all you heard was a muffled grunt.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Bucky yelled, shoving your door open. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You swung around, an angry scowl on your face. “Oh, I heard you. I heard you and Nat talking.”

“Romanoff?” he asked. “She stopped me in the hall -”

“I know,” you spat. “I saw. I saw you talking, I saw her standing in front of you, I saw you doing nothing while she touched you.”

“Y/N, I told you, we have a history,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“But why does she get to touch you? Touch your scars?” you prodded. “Why does she get to touch you and I don’t?”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

“It’s not a Facebook relationship, Bucky,” you snapped. “I just want to know why.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he mumbled.

A tear slipped down your cheek and you absentmindedly brushed it away. You were broken, desperate, and you didn’t know what to do. You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. “I just want you to say that you feel the same way that I do, that you’re falling in love with me like I’m falling in love with you.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, and you would have laughed if you hadn’t noticed the panicked look that had suddenly taken over his face. It dawned on you what you had just said to him. 

“Bucky -”

You moved toward him, but he stumbled back, his hand reaching blindly for the door behind him. Without a word, he threw it open and took off down the hall.

God, it was worse than a slap to the face; the rejection, the indifference to your feelings. You dropped to the end of the bed, your head in your hands.You hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Bucky, and you certainly hadn’t meant for it to happen. But there it was, laid out in front of you, in all of its tarnished glory.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.


	9. A Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You come to terms with what happened between you and Bucky.

It took you about five seconds to decide you needed to do something, so you shoved yourself off the bed, threw open the door, and ran down the hall after Bucky. You caught him just before he rounded the corner, reaching out and snatching his hand.

“Bucky, please,” you murmured. “Just...just talk to me.”

He turned back to you, a storm raging in his blue eyes. “I can’t, Y/N. I can’t say what you want me to say.”

“I-I don’t need the words, Buck,” you whispered, tears swimming in your eyes. “But I can’t help how I feel. I’ve fallen in love with you. I know that wasn’t part of our arrangement -”

Bucky reached out and gently stroked your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You can’t love me,” he shook his head, his voice raw, wrecked. “I can’t make you happy.”

“But, you do make me happy,” you replied. 

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll never be able to be what you want. I told you, Y/N, I’m seriously fucked up. Fifty shades of fucked up. You don’t deserve that. You deserve better.” He stepped back, his head dropping, his fists clenching and unclenching. It was so quiet you could hear the click and whir of the vibranium arm’s mechanisms. “Let’s just...we’ll talk about this later. Tomorrow or something. I need some time to think.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure he saw it, not when you were staring at the floor, fighting back the tears, unable to look at him. A wave of exhaustion washed over you. You weren’t sure you could fight his demons in order to get him to love you, especially when you didn’t even know what those demons were. You turned and walked away, scurrying down the hallway to your room. You were mentally drained, exhausted, and all you wanted to do was sleep. Maybe you could figure this out tomorrow, like Bucky had said, after you’d gotten some rest, when you could think straight. You pulled back the blankets on your bed, crawled under them, and cried yourself to sleep.

It was the noise that woke you, the sounds of people moving through the halls, shouting, doors slamming, boots hitting the floor. You forced yourself out of bed, glancing at the clock as you threw the covers back. It was after midnight. You couldn’t believe you’d slept for almost ten hours. You stumbled to the door in the dark, yanked it open, and stepped out, only to run right into Captain Steve Rogers.

“Oh, shit, sorry” you gasped. 

He grabbed your elbow, somehow managing to keep both of you upright. There was a faint smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“You okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

“Are you sure? I know what happened with Bucky…”

“He told you?” you inquired.

“Of course he did,” Steve replied. “He tells me a lot.”

“I think we might be over, Steve,” you sighed, the tears threatening again. “I’m just not what he wanted.”

“Hey, c’mon, Y/N, don’t say that.” Steve patted your arm gently. “I’ve never seen Buck look as happy as he does when he’s with you.”

“Not even with Natasha?” you muttered.

Steve leaned over you, a fierce look on his face. “Not even with Natasha,” he said firmly.

“Captain Rogers, wheels up in five minutes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s disembodied voice interrupted.

“What’s going on?”

“Clint found a Hydra base in Azerbaijan. It’s all hands on deck,” he explained.

“You’re leaving? Everyone?” you whispered. “Even Bucky?”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he replied, patting your arm. “Everybody, even Bucky.”

“But we...I mean, I…” You swallowed and blew out a shaky breath. 

“I know,” he sighed. “You two need to talk. But, duty calls. You heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. Wheels up in five.” He squeezed your shoulder. “We’ll be back in a few days.”

You leaned against the wall by the door, watching as people flew past you, racing through the halls, bags and weapons in hand. Bucky appeared unexpectedly, emerging from a corridor that led to one of the other living quarter areas. He looked left, then right, and instead of turning right to join the rest of the team, he moved down the hall, coming to a stop about four feet from you. You took a step forward, and for some reason, he stepped back, the gesture like a stinging slap. The world fell away from you, leaving a wide, yawning abyss between you and Bucky, an abyss for you to fall into.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice filled the halls, reminding everyone that they needed to report to the north landing pad.

“You better hurry,” you murmured.

“Y/N -”

“Go, Buck,” you snapped. “The world needs saving. Go do what you guys do best.”

“Bucky!” Natasha’s voice echoed off the glass corridor, startling you. She was standing a few feet away, at the mouth of the corridor Bucky had just come from. Your stomach dropped and bile rose in your throat.

“I have to go,” Bucky mumbled, straightening his shoulders and turning away from you. He looked utterly broken, a man in agonizing pain. 

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he whispered.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you said softly.

* * *

A pattern developed as the days passed - you’d wake up, work for a few hours, cry a lot, and eventually, you’d try to sleep. One day bled into the next. Bucky haunted your dreams, his flashing blue eyes, his chestnut brown hair, the lost look on his face as he’d walked past you, the way Natasha had called his name. Your mind twisted that into multiple scenarios and images you didn’t even want to think about that played on a loop in your head, making you sick to your stomach.

You waited anxiously for news from the team, from Bucky, but they’d gone radio silent; even Pepper hadn’t heard from Tony. She didn’t seem as worried as you, in fact, she took it in stride.

“It happens, Y/N,” she’d shrugged. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

Pepper’s words did nothing to appease your worry; you felt as if every waking moment was spent worrying about Bucky, needing Bucky. Memories of him tortured you - kissing him for the first time, the bathtub, the first time he’d spanked you, how gentle he could be, his sharp sense of humor, and his dark, brooding, sexy stare. You missed him. It had been five days, five days of agony that felt like an eternity. You cried yourself to sleep at night, wishing you hadn’t let him walk away, wishing you were together. You wanted him to come home so you could tell him you were willing to take whatever he could give you.

The dawn of the sixth day found you sitting in the common room, sipping a mug of tea, an uneaten sandwich beside it. It had been days since you’d eaten more than a few bites of food. If Bucky were there he would have been angry with you for not eating. You were staring out the window, an open book on the table in front of you. You were alone in the huge compound; Pepper had gone into the city for the day.

“Ms. Y/L/N, the quinjet is approaching from the east,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice unexpectedly filled the room. “Estimated time of arrival is twenty minutes. Sergeant Barnes has asked for you to meet him outside his living quarters.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y,” you murmured nervously.

Twenty minutes and you would finally see Bucky, after nearly six days of no contact. You picked up your tea, but your hands were shaking too much, it kept sloshing over the side of the mug, burning your hand. You gave up and set the mug down, pushing it, and the sandwich, away. You blew out a shaky breath and pushed a hand through your hair.

Twenty-three minutes later, you were leaning against the wall outside of Bucky’s room, waiting. Your stomach was in knots and your hands were still shaking. You prayed Bucky didn’t want to see you so he could break up with you. Five days away from him had made you realize just how desperately in love with him you really were.

You felt him before you saw him. It was like your whole body was attuned to his presence. It relaxed and ignited at the same time - a weird, internal duality. You could sense that strange pulsing electricity that seemed so common when you were with Bucky, even though you hadn’t laid eyes on him yet. You could only hear his approach. You pushed yourself upright, tried to swallow past your dry throat, and stared in the direction the sound of his boots was coming from. Bucky appeared in the hall, still in uniform, his hair pulled away from his face, a faint smile crossing his face when his eyes met yours. He picked up the pace, coming to a stop in front of you. He rested one hand on the wall above your head, leaning over you.

“Hiya, doll,” he whispered.

“Hi,” you replied.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice still soft.

“If I told you I was fine, I’d be lying,” you murmured.

Bucky inhaled sharply. “Me, too,” he admitted. He took your hand in his. “I missed you.”

“Bucky, I -”

“We need to talk,” he said at the same time.

He tugged and before you knew it, you were in his arms and his nose was in your hair. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N,” he breathed.

You considered pulling yourself free, stepping away from him, but he was pressing you to his chest, and you melted. It was where you wanted to be. You rested your head against him while he kissed your hair repeatedly. You allowed yourself the illusion that all would be well, and it soothed your ravaged soul.

“Will you come in, so we can talk?” Bucky asked, pointing at his door.

You nodded and let him lead you into his room. “I’m going to shower,” he said. “Give me ten minutes?”

“Sure,” you agreed, sitting on the edge of the small sofa against the wall. You folded your hands in your lap, squeezing them together so tight your knuckles ached.

Bucky hit the button on the stereo as he passed it and a soothing piano piece filled the room. A few minutes later you heard the shower in the bathroom come on and you relaxed the tiniest bit, blowing out a shaky breath.

You couldn’t sit still, so you got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the counter, then you started pacing back and forth, filled with nervous energy. You jumped when you heard the water go off, and, anxious to get the conversation with Bucky started, you downed the bottle of water and marched into the bedroom.

He had just emerged from the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a pale blue henley, barefoot, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He gave you a tentative smile as you crossed the room and perched on the edge of the chair in the corner.

“You wanted to talk?” you said quietly.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees. “You said you love me,” he whispered. “Or is that past tense now?” His voice was low, laced with anxiety.

“No, Bucky, it’s not,” you replied. You hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.

“Good,” he sighed.

You were shocked by his admission. Had he had a change of heart? When you’d told him you’d loved him before, he’d been horrified.

“I-I don’t understand…”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said. “I’ve missed you, really missed you. The past few days, you’re the only thing I could think about, I couldn’t even concentrate on the mission. I thought Steve was going to throttle me, he was so irritated with me.”

“What are you trying to say, Bucky?” you whispered.

“I have a proposition for you,” he replied.

“A proposition?” you muttered.

“Let me ask you something first,” Bucky said. “Do you want a regular vanilla relationship with no kinky fuckery at all?” 

Your mouth dropped open. “Kinky fuckery?” you squeaked. 

“Yeah, kinky fuckery,” he repeated. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” you shook your head, a smile teasing at your lips. 

“Well, I did say it,” Bucky chuckled. “Now, answer me.” 

You felt heat rising in your cheeks. “I like your kinky fuckery,” you whispered. 

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded. “So, what don’t you like?”

You didn’t even have to think about your answer. “I don’t like not being able to touch you,” you said.

Bucky nodded. “I thought you might say that.”

“Natasha can touch you,” you murmured, staring at the floor beneath your feet.

“I don’t want to talk about Natasha,” he sighed.

“We need to talk about her,” you stated firmly. “If you really want to negotiate whatever it is we’re negotiating, then that is going to be a part of this conversation.”

Bucky blew out a breath. “Romanoff doesn’t mean anything to me,” he said firmly. “And what you saw, her touching me, it was unprovoked. I didn’t ask her to touch me, I didn’t want her to touch me. She tends to take certain...liberties.” He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair. “It’s one of the reasons we’re not together anymore.”

“Really?” you asked.

Bucky shoved himself off the bed, falling to his knees in front of you. He took your hands in his. “Yes,” he said. “That and a million other reasons.”

“I want to trust you, Buck, I do,” you sighed. “I just...I don’t know…”

“I understand,” he said. “And I swear to you I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise. I told you, these last few days have been hell. I hate knowing that I’m the one who made you feel this pain. I hate it. I can never apologize enough, I know that. All of my instincts tell me to let you go, tell me that I don’t deserve you. But I’m selfish. I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I want you and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twisting in my black heart.”

Your head was spinning. That felt like a declaration of love, and if it wasn’t, maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did. You opened your mouth and it was as if a dam broke; the words tumbled out of you.

“Why do you think that, Bucky? Why do you think you have a black heart? You’re a good man, anyone can see that. I know you don’t think that, but I do. But I’m worried that I can’t please you, that I’ll never be able to please you.”

“You please me all the time,” he whispered. “Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I never know what you’re thinking,” you said. “You’re so closed off. You intimidate me. That’s why sometimes I keep quiet. I don’t know which way your mood is going to go, it swings back and forth like a pendulum. I get so confused. And you won’t let me touch you and I want so much to show you how much I love you and I don’t know any other way to do it.”

He blinked several times, he brows drawn down in confusion. You needed to be closer to him, so you slid off the seat and scrambled onto his lap, taking him by surprise. You took his head in your hands, urging him to look at you.

“I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you said firmly. “It’s all I can give you. Just...let me love you. And eventually maybe you’ll love me. So, my proposition? We start over, we promise to be honest with each other, and you let me love you. Okay?”

His arms snaked around you and he crushed you to him. “I accept your proposition,” he breathed, burying his nose in my hair. 

You snuggled into his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He gently stroked your back, his touch soft and gentle.

“Touching is a hard limit for me, Y/N,” he whispered.

“I know,” you murmured. “I just...I wish I understood why. I wish you would tell me why.”

Bucky tensed beneath you, a heavy sigh coming from him. “You know about HYDRA, the brainwashing, what they did to me, the things I was forced to do?”

“Yes,” you replied.

“There were other...things...I was made to do,” he said, his voice so quiet you could barely hear him. “Any  time someone touches them - my scars - it reminds me of things I would rather forget.”

“You remember? I thought when they wiped you -”

“I remember everything,” he whispered, his eyes haunted.

Your heart constricted as you remembered the look on his face the times you you had nearly touched the scars marring his skin, the way he’d flinch, the fear in his eyes. You threw your arms around his neck, holding him close.

“It’s fucked up, doll,” he said. “Which is why I’m fucked up. Fifty shades of fucked up.” He tightened his arms around you and kissed your cheek, just a brush of his lips against your skin.

“I want to kiss you, Y/N,” he breathed in your ear. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” you sighed.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” Bucky said. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me what you want, until you’re begging.” He pulled you to your feet and stood you in front of him.

He was so tantalizingly close, his scent intoxicating. You reached for him and he immediately stepped back. “No,” he chided, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I’m sorry.”

“Not at all?” You couldn’t keep the longing out of your voice.

Bucky looked at you uncertainly, his hesitation emboldening you. You took a step closer, reached out, and ran your fingers down his right side to his waist. He gave you a wary smile, shrugging one shoulder. You rose up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Make love to me, Bucky,” you whispered. “Undress me.”

Without taking his eyes off of you, he slowly started to unbutton your shirt. When he was finished, he pushed the shirt off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He reached down to your jeans, popped the button, and pulled down the zipper.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” His eyes smoldered, his lips parting as his tongue darted out to trace his lower lip.

“Kiss me, here,” you whispered, trailing your finger from the bottom of your ear and down your throat.

Bucky smoothed your hair back, leaning over you, leaving soft kisses along the path you finger had taken then back again.

“My jeans and panties,” you murmured.

He smiled against your throat before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down, along with your panties. You stepped out of them, leaving you in nothing but your bra. Bucky stopped and looked up at you expectantly, though he didn’t get up.

“What now, doll?”

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

“Where?” he grinned wickedly.

Embarrassed, you closed your eyes, your fingers drifting down your stomach to the apex of your thighs.

“Mmm, my pleasure,” he hummed. He put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue circling your belly button before he kissed a trail down your stomach. He unleashed his tongue, flattening it and dragging it through the lips of your pussy, moaning deep in the back of his throat.

You groaned and fisted your hands in his hair, holding him in place, relishing the feel of his expert tongue exploring you. He was relentless, his tongue circling your clit, driving you insane, until your legs were trembling and you were close to coming.

“Bucky, please,” you begged.

“Please what, Y/N?” he murmured, gently kissing your inner thighs.

“I want you, now,” you moaned.

“You’ve got me,” he smirked.

“Bucky, stop teasing,” you panted.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, his tongue still teasing you, enticing you, making you squirm uncontrollably.

“Bucky….please,” you groaned loudly.

He stood and gazed down at you, his lips glistening with the evidence of your arousal. He kicked off his jeans and removed his shirt. Your eyes danced over the scars on his shoulder and chest, but you didn’t linger long, instead you did what he had done to you - you dropped to your knees, and with shaking hands, you yanked his boxers down, freeing his hard length.

You took him in your hand and squeezed tightly, stroking him slowly, just like you knew he wanted. Bucky groaned and tensed, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around him and sucked, hard.

“Shit, doll, easy,” he growled.

You pulled him deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length, your eyes watering as he hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed.

It was a powerful feeling, pulling such a sexy sound from him, so you did it again, dragging your teeth slowly down the shaft before closing your mouth and sucking hard.

“Y/N, that’s enough,” he gasped. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

You did it once more, forcing Bucky to bend down and grab you by the shoulders, hauling you to your feet and pushing you onto the bed. He was panting as he pulled a condom from his discarded jeans.

“Get that bra off, doll,” he ordered, “and lie down. I want to look at you. I’ve missed looking at you.”

You did as he asked, tossing the bra aside and lying on the bed, gazing up at him as he slowly rolled the condom down his cock. God, you wanted him. 

Bucky crawled up the bed, hovering over you. He kissed each of your breasts, his tongue teasing your nipples, making you groan and writhe beneath him. His hand slid down your stomach, two fingers easing into you, stretching you open, pushing you higher and higher with every stroke of his fingers. He pushed your legs open with his knee, and without taking his eyes off of yours, he sank into you at a deliciously slow pace.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the fullness, the exquisite feeling of his possession. You instinctively tilted your pelvis up to meet his, moaning loudly. He eased back, pulling out until just the tip of his cock was teasing you before slowly filling you again. Your fingers found their way into his soft, unruly hair, tangling in the strands, and he did it again, moving oh-so-slowly, a triumphant smirk on his face as he watched you throw your head back, your legs tightening around him, a guttural groan leaving you. You pressed your heels into the back of his thighs, gasping his name, begging him to move faster, harder.

Bucky caught your lips in his, kissing you hard as he did your bidding, slamming into you, a pounding, relentless rhythm, and fuck, it was just what you needed, what you wanted, your body immediately responding, the coil deep in the pit of your stomach tightening, heat flooding you.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled.

Your body responded to him, the orgasm exploding through you, a magnificent, mind-numbing orgasm that had you falling into a million pieces around him. His hand slid up your leg and under your ass, lifting you, the angle allowing him to bury himself so deep inside of you that you weren’t sure where you ended and he began. 

He moaned your name as he let go, his cock twitching and pulsing inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, his face pressed to the side of your neck. Aftershocks of pleasure were rolling through you, consuming every inch of you, goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin.

As your heart rate slowed and your brain starting firing on all cylinders again, you opened your eyes and gazed up into the face of the man you loved. His expression was soft, tender. He brushed his nose against yours, bearing his weight on his elbows, his hands holding yours above your head. You suspected it was so you wouldn’t touch him.

“I missed this,” he breathed, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Bucky took hold of your chin and kissed you hard, a kiss that left you breathless.

“Can you promise me something?” you asked when he released you.

“I’ll try,” he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Depends on what it is.”

“Promise me you won’t walk away from me again when something serious happens or if you get uncomfortable with something I say,” you said. “I can’t handle it, not again.”

“Neither can I.” He brushed your hair out of your eyes. “I promise, doll.”

You opened your mouth, maybe to extract more promises from him, maybe something else, you weren’t sure, but Bucky pressed a finger to your lips. “No more talking,” he frowned playfully. “I’m talked out for one day. And I’m starving. Let’s get dressed, get some food. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Food it is.”


	10. Lipstick Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky outline his hard limits on touching.

The next few days were better than you could have expected. You and Bucky spent every free minute you had together and he seemed to be opening up more, little by little. Touching was still a hard limit for him and no matter what you did, he wouldn’t budge. As much as you hated it, you were learning to accept it. You hoped over time he would grow to trust you and things would change.

The only dark spot in your evolving relationship was Natasha. You saw her multiple times a day, much to your chagrin. And she spent far too much time hanging around Bucky, though you noticed he seemed to be doing his best to keep his distance. You, in turn, did your best to keep your doubts, fears, and jealousy in check.

After a particularly long day - Cho and Banner had needed your help in the lab and you’d spent several hours taking inventory in the large underground warehouse - you’d retired to your room to hide out for the night. You managed to take a hot shower and binge a couple of hours of The Great British Baking Show before there was a knock on your door and Bucky was peeking his head around the corner.

“Hey, doll, you busy?”

“No,” you replied, pushing yourself upright on the bed. “What’s up?”

He stepped inside and firmly pushed the door closed behind him. He crossed the room to stand beside the bed and held out his hand, in which he was holding a tube of lipstick.

You took it from him, frowning, perplexed. It was harlot red, not your color at all. “You want me to wear this?” you asked warily. “I’m not sure it’s my color.”

“No, Y/N,” he laughed. “Not unless you want to.” He sat on the bed cross-legged and dragged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. “Since I know you’re curious, I thought we’d talk about my limits. I figured I’d show you, give you a visual image of where you can and cannot touch.”

“A visual image?” You stared at him blankly.

“A road map of the no go areas,” he said.

“You’re going to draw on yourself with lipstick so I know where I can and cannot touch you?” you asked.

“No, you’re going to do it,” he corrected. “Come here.”

You scrambled into a sitting position, crawled over to him, and took his outstretched hand. Bucky laid down on the bed, but he kept his knees bent.

“Sit on me,” he ordered. “Lean against my legs.”

You sat astride him as instructed, the tube of lipstick clutched tightly in your hand.

Bucky’s eyes were wide, cautious, though there was a hint of amusement dancing in the deep blue. “You seem...enthusiastic,” he commented wryly.

“I’m always eager to learn, Bucky,” you said. “And maybe you’ll relax when we’re together, because I’ll know where the boundaries are.”

“Open the lipstick,” he said. “And give me your hand, the one with the lipstick in it.”

You pulled the top off the lipstick and gave him your hand. Suddenly, he sat up so you were nose to nose.

“Ready?” he asked in a low, soft murmur that made everything tighten and tense inside of you.

“Yes,” you whispered. His proximity was alluring, his toned body so close, his very masculine scent invading your senses.

He took your hand and guided it to his collarbone, right where his neck and shoulder met. “Press down,” he breathed.

Your mouth went dry as he directed your hand down the center of his chest to just below his ribs, an inch or so above his belly button. The lipstick left a broad, vivid red streak in its wake. He directed you to draw a line across the bottom of his ribs, trailing off on his left side. 

Bucky tensed and stared into your eyes. Beneath his carefully blank look, you could see his restraint. His aversion was held strictly in check, the line of his jaw was strained, and there was tension around his eyes.

“Now around my to my back,” he murmured, releasing your hand.

The trust he was giving you was heady, but tempered by the fact that you can physically see the pain he’d been forced to endure. The scars were a deep, angry red, and despite what both Tony and Shuri - the Wakandan princess - had done to ease some of that pain, you knew there were times when he hurt down deep into his muscles, his bones. And that was just the physical pain, that didn’t even touch the emotional turmoil he frequently dealt with. It tore you apart to see the hideous, evil desecration that had been done by HYDRA to his beautiful body. You bit your lip, holding back your tears as you slid off of him and moved around to sit behind him.

“Draw the line straight up my back, about an inch to the left of my spine,” he said, his voice low and husky. “And connect it to where you started on my chest.”

You did as he said until a crimson line ran down the middle of his back. There were more scars there, not just from the surgery that had connected his metal arm to his body, but thin welts on the skin of his back stretching from his shoulder to his spine. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss each one.

Bucky’s head was down, his body tense as you completed the circuit. “Finished,” you whispered, desperately containing your emotion. You had drawn what looked to be half of a cropped tank top on the left side of his chest and back. You capped the lipstick, tossed it on the bedside table, and cleared your throat.

His shoulders slumped as he relaxed and he turned slowly to face you once again. “Those are the boundaries,” he said quietly, his eyes dark, his pupils dilated.

“What about your arm?” you asked, pointing at his vibranium arm.

“You can touch the arm,” he said. “If you want.”

What you wanted was to throw yourself in his arms, but you restrained yourself, watching him carefully. “I can live with that,” you murmured, your eyes dancing over him.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his head tipped to one side. “What?” he asked.

“Right now all I want to do is throw myself in your arms,” you shrugged, smiling shyly.

He gave you a wicked smile and held out his hands, a silent gesture of consent. “I’m all yours, doll.”

You catapulted yourself into his arms, knocking him flat. He twisted, a boyish laugh rumbling from his chest, the sound filled with relief that the ordeal was over. Somehow, you ended up beneath him on the bed, his mouth on yours, claiming you as his, the kiss consuming your soul.

You could have stayed there kissing him forever, but he dragged you upright and grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, whipping it over your head and throwing it on the floor. 

“I want to feel you,” he said greedily against your mouth as his hands slipped behind you to undo your bra. In one smooth move it was off and on the floor with your t-shirt. He pushed you back down onto the bed, pressing you into the mattress, his mouth and hands on your breasts.

Your fingers curled into his hair as he took one of your nipples between his lips, tugging gently. You cried out as pleasant sensations swept through your body, spiking and tightening the muscles deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, doll, let me hear you,” he murmured against your overheated skin. He continued toying with your nipple, laving it, suckling it, making you squirm and writhe, yearning for him. It was as if he was worshipping your body, his longing mixed with need and want and desire. He teased you with his fingers, your nipples hard and taut, aching under his skillful touch. He deftly undid the button on your jeans and pushed his hand past the waistband, his fingers sliding against the lips of your pussy. His breath hissed out of him as his finger eased into you and you couldn’t help but push against the heel of his hand. He responded, rubbing it against you, igniting a fire deep inside of you.

“Fuck, doll,” he growled as he hovered over you, staring intently into your eyes. “You’re so wet.”

“All for you,” you murmured.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours again; you could feel his hungry desperation, his need for you. It was new, different, as if a dam had broken after you’d learned the boundaries, as if his trust in you was stronger than it had been before. The thought unraveled you, to know that you had such an effect on him, that you could offer him solace, in whatever way possible.

He sat up, hooked his fingers in your jeans, and tugged them off, along with your panties. Keeping his eyes fixed on yours, he stood up, took a condom from his pocket, and tossed it to you, then he removed his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. You ripped the packet open and when he returned to the bed to lie beside you, you rolled it down his hard cock.

Once you were done, Bucky grabbed both of your hands and turned to his back. “You, on top,” he ordered, pulling you on top of him. “I want to watch you.” 

You let him guide you as you eased yourself down onto him, his brilliant blue eyes dark with lust. He flexed his hips, rising to meet yours, filling you, stretching you, his mouth dropping open as he exhaled. 

“God, you feel good,” he murmured.

You moved, rocking slowly, heady with the power you had over him, watching Bucky come apart beneath you. He let go of your hands and grabbed your hips, your hands on his arms as he thrust into you, hard and deep, pulling you down while his hips came up, drawing a sharp cry out of you. You were nothing but sensation, lost in a vortex of pleasure, moving with Bucky, countering his rhythm, the two of you in perfect symmetry. You were numb to all thought and reason - up and down, again and again, your body a slave to the need and desire coursing through you. You stared down at him, your breathing ragged, and he was staring back, his eyes blazing.

A deep, sinful groan came out of him, his eyes closing, his back arching as he came. Seeing Bucky come undone was enough to push you over the edge, your own orgasm taking you, his name a curse on your lips. Exhausted, you collapsed on top of him.

“Oh, doll,” he groaned, his grip on your waist tightening, his cock throbbing inside of you.

Your head was on his chest, in the no-go area, your cheek resting on his sternum. You were panting, glowing, and resisting the urge to kiss him. He smoothed your hair, his hands running up and down your back, caressing you as his breathing calmed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

You lifted your head to look at him, your expression skeptical. He frowned in response and sat up quickly, taking you by surprise, his arm around you, holding you in place. You clutched his arms as he held you close.

“You. Are. Beautiful,” he repeated, his tone emphatic.

You shook your head. “You’re very sweet,” you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “But I’m no Natasha.” You rolled off of him, wrapped the blanket from the end of the bed around yourself, and hurried into the bathroom.

“You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?” He was right behind you, tossing the condom in the trash before moving to stand behind you.

“I’m okay,” you shrugged, filling a glass with water from the sink, doing your best not to make eye contact with him in the mirror..

Bucky turned you to face him and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. “You are more than just okay. You are gorgeous.”

You lifted your arms, your fingers tangling in his hair, and smiled up at him. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” he chuckled.

“I know,” you giggled.

He lifted you off your feet and carried you back to the bed. “You’re incorrigible and you’re mine,” he said, his eyes glowing possessively.

“Yes, yours,” you reassured him, climbing into his lap.

The lipstick marks were still on his body, though you noticed some smeared on the sheets. “The line is still intact,” you murmured, bravely tracing the mark on his chest with your index finger.

Bucky stiffened, blinking rapidly. “Y/N -”

“I want to go exploring,” you murmured.

“Oh?” He regarded you skeptically. “What did you want to explore?”

You ran your fingertips down his face, scratching at the stubble peppering his cheeks and chin. His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“I just want to touch you everywhere I’m allowed,” you whispered, tracing his lip with your finger.

Bucky caught your finger in his teeth, biting gently.

“Ow,” you protested, drawing a grin from him, along with a low growl from deep in his throat.

“Okay,” he said, releasing your finger, though his voice was laced with apprehension. He shifted around so you were straddling him again, leaning against his propped up knees, your legs on either side of his hips. He leaned back on his arms.

“Touch away,” he sighed. He was nervous, but he was trying to hide it.

Keeping your eyes on his, you reached down and traced your finger underneath the lipstick line, across his finely sculptured abdominal muscles. He flinched and you stopped.

“I don’t have to,” you whispered.

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “Just...it takes some...readjustment on my part. No one’s touched me for a long time.

“Natasha?” The words popped unbidden out of your mouth and amazingly, you somehow managed to keep all the bitterness and rancor out of your voice.

“Y/N,” Bucky growled. “I told you, I don’t  _ let _ Romanoff touch me, it’s just that over the years, she has grown accustomed to taking certain liberties within our friendship.” His discomfort was obvious. “Look, I don’t want to talk about her. I like your good mood and I would like it to stay that way. My past is my past. I can’t change it, no matter how much I want to. I don’t hold your past against you, things you can’t change. Please give me the same courtesy.”

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “Am I making you crazy?”

“No crazier than I already am,” he shrugged, a hint of a smile dancing across his lips. “Are you done exploring?”

You shook your head and shifted back so he would drop his legs. You placed your fingers back on his stomach and let them drift across his skin. He stilled once more.

“I like touching you,” you sighed. You slid your hand down his stomach and gently took hold of his half hard cock. 

His lips parted as his breathing changed, his eyes darkening as you slowly stroked him.

“Round two?” you giggled.

“Oh, yeah, doll,” he smiled. “Round two.”


	11. Rack 'Em Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re good at pool, but not as good as Bucky.

Bucky was waiting for you beside the elevator when you emerged from the interview room. You blew the hair off of your forehead and hurried down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of him, pushing up on your toes, and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“This is a nice surprise,” you smiled.

“I thought I’d see if you had any plans,” he shrugged, one shoulder rising minutely. 

“Um...let’s see...seeing as how I can’t leave the compound or I could end up dead...” you mumbled, tapping one finger against your lips. “So, no, no plans.”

“So, you’re all mine?” Bucky grinned.

“All yours,” you nodded.

The elevator doors opened and Bucky ushered you inside, his hand in the small of your back. The air in the elevator seemed to shift noticeably when the doors slid closed, an electric current sparking to life between you and Bucky.

Abruptly, he pushed you up against the wall, the hand railing digging into your back, and grabbed your face between his hands, forcing you to look into his fiery, determined blue eyes. You gasped and he swooped down, caught your lips in his, and kissed you, hard. Briefly, your teeth clashed, then his tongue was in your mouth, his hands on your hips. Desire exploded like fireworks throughout your body as you kissed him back, your intensity matching his, your hands knotting in his hair, tugging it.

Bucky groaned, a low sexy sound in the back of his throat that reverberated through you, his hand moving down your body to the top of your thigh, his fingers digging into your flesh beneath the pale blue dress you were wearing. 

He didn’t stop, even after the elevator doors slid open, he just dragged you out of the elevator and into the hall, his body flush against yours, his arousal pressing into your leg. You hummed, one of your legs curling around the back of his.

“Your place or mine?” you murmured against his lips.

“Sergeant Barnes, your presence is requested in the main conference room,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice filled the hall.

“Shit,” Bucky growled. “I’m busy, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Captain Rogers is requesting that you report to the main conference room, immediately,” the artificial intelligence repeated firmly.

“On my way,” he sighed. He pressed a kiss to your lips. “I won’t be long.” His eyes were luminous with desire, stoking the fire in the heated blood pounding through your body.

You dragged in a stuttering breath and leaned against the wall. “I’ll wait here.”

He towered over you, one hand on either side of your head. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, doll? You bring out feelings in me that are completely alien. It’s very...unsettling. I like to be in control, and around you, that just, evaporates. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Sergeant Barnes?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated.

Bucky sighed heavily, pushed away from the wall, turned, and stalked off. At the end of the hall, Natasha intercepted him, a smirk on her face as she looked your way, her hand on Bucky’s elbow. They disappeared around the corner.

You waited until your heart rate slowed and you were able to catch your breath before you pushed away from the wall and strolled down the hall. You were equal parts angry and turned on. You had to remind yourself that it was Steve that requested Bucky’s presence, not Natasha. 

There was a large game and entertainment room on this floor of the compound, complete with video game consoles, pinball machines, foosball and billiard tables. You hadn’t explored it much, so you stepped inside, sticking close to the wall, your fingers trailing over the shelves, murmuring the titles of the games and movies stacked there.

You moved across the room, lingering at the pinball machines for a quite a while, giggling to yourself at the one with the Iron Man theme in the corner. You played it a couple of times - not well, pinball had never been your thing - before you continued exploring, finally coming to a stop beside an expensive looking billiard table. You rolled one of the balls across it, smiling as it hit the other ones on the table.

“You play?” Bucky asked from the doorway.

You jumped, the breath huffing out of you. “A few times,” you lied.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his head cocked to one side. “You’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled.

“Are you leaving?” you inquired.

“Leaving?” he repeated.

“The meeting?” You nodded vaguely in the direction of the conference room. “Do you have a mission?”

“The rest of the team is leaving,” he explained. “Since it’s so close to the Senate hearing, I’ve been tasked with staying here to watch over you.”

“Oh, really?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Rough assignment.”

“I volunteered,” he smirked.

“So, it’s just you and me?” you murmured.

Bucky’s face fell, contorting into an unreadable expression. He cleared his throat a couple of times before muttering ‘no’ barely loud enough for you to hear.

You huffed out an irritated breath. “Nat?” you spat.

“She offered,” Bucky sighed. “Stark thought it was a good idea. What was I supposed to say?”

“How about no?” you grumbled. “So, what, she’s our babysitter?”

“Look, Y/N, I made it very clear she was to steer clear of both of us. Period,” Bucky growled. “She promised.”

You rolled your eyes, mumbling under your breath. Bucky shifted uneasily from foot to foot, his hand clenching and unclenching, the two of you glaring at each other. Several uncomfortable minutes passed before you gave him a weak smile and pointed at the table.

“Shall we play?” you asked, hoping to ease the tension.

“You and me? Seriously?” Bucky scoffed.

“What?” you demanded. “Afraid of a little competition?”

“Scared? Of you?” he snorted, an eyebrow cocked. “I don’t think so.”

“How about a wager?” you asked.

“You’re very confident, doll,” he smirked, amused and incredulous at once. “What would you like to wager?”

“If I win, you open that drawer you have in your room that hides all of those toys you’ve got,” you replied.

“Toys?” He acted shocked. “What toys?”

“Um, the kinky fuckery toys,” you smiled, giggling just a little.

“Okay, and -”

“And, you teach me some more...stuff.” You dropped your head, a flush heating your cheeks.

“And if I win?” Bucky asked.

“Then it’s your choice,” you shrugged.

His mouth twisted as he contemplated his answer. “Okay, deal.” 

Bucky sauntered across the room, his eyes on yours. He quickly and efficiently racked the balls, grabbed a cue and some chalk, then he handed them to you.

“Would you like to break?” he asked politely.

He was enjoying himself; he thought he was going to win. You chalked the end of the cue and blew the excess chalk off, staring up at Bucky through your lashes. You lined up on the white ball and with a swift, clean stroke, you hit the center ball of the triangle with enough force that a striped ball spun and plunged into the top right pocket. The rest of the balls scattered around the table.

“I choose stripes,” you said innocently, smiling coyly at Bucky.

His mouth twisted in amusement. “Ladies choice,” he said politely.

You proceeded to pocket the next three balls in quick succession while Bucky watched impassively, silent.

“You know, doll, I could watch you leaning and stretching across that table all day,” he murmured appreciatively.

You missed the green striped ball by millimeters. Bucky was trying to put you off your game. The bastard was succeeding, too.

Bucky peeled off the sweatshirt he was wearing, tossing it on a chair as he sauntered over to take his first shot. He bent low over the table and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat. You could see how it was distracting; him in tight jeans and his plain white t-shirt, bending like he was, it was a sight to behold. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

He rapidly sank four solids, then fouled by hitting the white into a pocket. He took a step back, shrugging and smiling.

“A very juvenile mistake, Mr. Barnes,” you teased.

“I’m only human,” Bucky smirked. “Your turn, I believe.”

“You’re not trying to lose, are you?” you asked. His casual attitude was making you suspicious.

“Definitely not,” he chuckled. “I want to win, Y/N. Then again, I always want to win.”  

You narrowed your eyes at him and stalked around the table, bending over at every available opportunity - the dress you were wearing was low cut - giving Bucky an eyeful of, not only your ass and your skirt riding up your thighs but also, your cleavage, whenever possible. Two could play that game.

“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered, his eyes dark and hooded.

You tilted your head to one side, your hand running up and down the length of the cue, fondling it. “I’m just deciding where to take my next shot,” you murmured. You stood directly in front of Bucky, leaned across the table and aimed for the orange striped ball. Just before the cue hit the ball, as your leg was leaving the ground, you heard a sharp intake of breath. Of course, you missed the shot.

“Shit,” you mumbled. 

Bucky stood behind you while you were bent over the table, his hand on your ass. “Are you waving this around to taunt me, doll?” He smacked you, hard, making you jump and gasp.

“Yes,” you muttered. No sense lying to him.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he chuckled.

You rubbed the spot on your ass he’d smacked as he wandered to the other end of the table, leaned over, and took his shot. He hit the red ball and it shot into the left side pocket. He aimed for the yellow, top right, and it just missed. You couldn’t help but grin and stick your tongue out, taunting him. Bucky merely raised an eyebrow and directed you to continue.

You made quick work of the green stripe and by some crazy fluke, you also managed to knock in the orange stripe as well.

“You have to name your pocket,” Bucky murmured, pointing at the last ball on the table

“Top, left hand.” You took aim, hitting the black eight ball, but missing the pocket, going wide. 

Bucky smiled a wicked grin as he leaned over the table and made short work of the remaining solids. You were practically panting, watching him, his lithe body stretching over the table. He stood and chalked his cue, his eyes burning into yours. He stepped close to you, barely an inch of space between you.

“When I win, doll, I’m going to spank you, then I’m going to fuck you over this billiard table,” he whispered, his deep voice even deeper than usual, thick with whiskey and pure, unadulterated lust. “And trust me, I will win.”

Every single muscle deep in your gut simultaneously clenched in the most delicious way. You swallowed and tried to speak, but no words would come out. Your brain was turned off.

“Top right,” he said quietly, pointing to the black ball and bending to take the shot. Bucky tapped the white ball so that it glided across the table, just kissing the black ball, which rolled oh-so-slowly toward the pocket, teetered on the edge for just a second, and finally dropped into the top right pocket. 

Bucky put down the cue and sauntered toward you, all tousled hair, tight jeans, and white t-shirt, the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Jesus Christ, he was fucking sexy.

“You’re not going to be a sore loser, are you?” he murmured, barely containing his grin.

“Depends on how hard you spank me,” you whispered, desperately grasping the cue, hoping it would keep you upright. God, you never would have imagined that you would want Bucky to spank you as bad as you did in that moment.

He took the cue out of your hand and put it aside, hooked his finger in the top of your dress, and pulled you toward him. His eyes were glowing a soft blue, alight with excitement. He leaned over you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“I want you out of that dress. Now.” He brushed a kiss across your lips, then he abruptly turned and crossed the room, pulling the pocket doors closed. When he turned back to you, his eyes dragging over the length of your body, his eyes burning with need.

You stood paralyzed like a zombie or something, your heart pounding, gasping for air, unable to move a muscle. All you could think about was how much you wanted to do this, for him.

“Your clothes, doll,” he said. “You’re still wearing them. Take them off, or I will do it for you.”

“You do it,” you whispered, finally able to find your voice, and it sounded low and heated.

“I think I can do that,” Bucky grinned.

“You  _ think _ you can do it?” you smirked. “I think you can do better than that.” You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Mmm, I see you’re still rolling your eyes at me,” he grinned, his hand clenching and unclenching.

A quiet moan escaped you; you were hot and bothered in all the right places. Only Bucky could turn you on with the just a look and the flexing of his hand. He walked toward you, eyes dark and full of promise. Without saying a word, he dropped to one knee in front of you, his hands sliding beneath your skirt, his fingers twisting in your panties. He looked up at you, a salacious grin on his face as he slowly dragged them down your legs. He grabbed the back of your legs and ran his nose along the apex of your thighs, a low hum in the back of his throat. He rose slowly to his feet, his hands on your hips.

“I’m going to be rough with you, doll,” he breathed. “You’ll have to stop me if it’s too much.” He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. “Safeword?”

“Petunias,” you groaned. You were nervous, but excited, knowing where this was headed.

Bucky unbuttoned the front of your dress, though he didn’t remove it. He released you, then he leaned over and picked up the cue. “You play very well, Y/N.” He spun the pool cue in his hand several times before holding it out to you. “Why don’t you sink the black?”

You took the cue, pouting a little. You didn’t want to play pool anymore; you wanted to do other things. You positioned the white ball while Bucky set up the black one. He strolled back around the table and stood right behind you as you leaned over to take the shot.

Bucky put his hand on your right thigh and ran his fingers up and down your leg, up to your ass and back again, lightly stroking you. 

“I’m going to miss if you keep doing that,” you whispered, your eyes slipping closed, relishing the feel of his hands on you.

“I don’t care if you hit or miss, doll. I just wanted to see you like this - partially dressed, stretched out on the billiard table. Do you have any idea how insanely gorgeous you look right now?”

Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore him and lined up your shot. Bucky continued caressing you, his touch driving you wild.

“Top left,” you murmured, then you hit the white ball.

He smacked you, hard, squarely on your ass. The white hit the black and bounced off the cushion, the ball veering wide of the pocket. Bucky caressed you again, slowly, his large hand circling your ass.

“I think you need to try again,” he whispered. “You really need to concentrate, Y/N.”

You were panting, excited by the turn this game had taken. Bucky strolled to the end of the table, set up the black ball again, then he rolled the white ball back down to you. He looked so carnal, dark-eyed, a lascivious smile on his face. He was irresistible - the arrogant, sexy bastard.

You caught the ball and lined it up, ready to strike again. You brought the cue up, ready to try again, but Bucky stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he admonished. “Wait a second.” He wandered back around the table and stood behind you again.

You closed your eyes once more as he stroked your left thigh, moving up to your left butt cheek, massaging it slowly. His touch was like fire on your skin.

“Take your shot,” he breathed, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn’t hold back your moan as desire twisted and turned inside of you. You tried, really tried, to think about where you should hit the black with the white. You shifted slightly to your right, but Bucky followed you. You bent over the table again and using every last vestige of your inner strength, you took aim and hit the white again. Bucky spanked you again just as you hit the ball, and of course, you missed again. You groaned in frustration.

“One more time, doll,” he purred.

He repeated the process - set up the black ball, returned to standing behind you, his hand on your ass again.

“You can do it,” he coaxed.

“Not when you’re distracting me,” you chided, pushing your ass against his hand, earning yourself a light smack.

“Take the shot,” he growled.

You wanted to whimper; you knew you were going to miss. You lined up the cue with the white ball, hit it, and in your impatience, missed the black entirely. You closed your eyes, dragged in a deep breath, and waited for Bucky to spank you again - but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned over you, flattening you against the table, took the cue from your hand, and pushed it away. His body was flush against your backside, hard and aroused.

“You missed,” he said softly in your ear. “Put your hands flat on the table.”

You did as he said, your cheek pressed against the felt, your hands on the table. Bucky pushed your skirt up, exposing your backside. He shifted so he was standing to your left, his erection against your hip. You groaned, your heart in your throat, your breath was coming in short, sharp pants, and a hot, heavy excitement was coursing through your veins.

Gently, he rubbed your ass, his metal hand in the center of your back, holding you in place. “Open your legs,” he murmured.

You must have hesitated, because you felt the sharp crack of his hand meeting your ass. The noise was harsher than the sting, taking you by surprise.

“Legs,” he ordered.

You opened your legs, panting. He struck again, spanking your left ass cheek. You closed your eyes and absorbed the pain. It wasn’t bad, not really, the sound worse than it felt. You were moaning, the desire hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Bucky’s breathing was harsh, rasping in and out of his throat, and hearing him, knowing how much this was turning him on, fed your own arousal.

He spanked you again and you couldn’t hold back the moan. Bucky groaned in response and spanked you again, and again, harder each time.

“Bucky, please -” you begged.

“I’m gonna fuck you, doll,” he said, his voice strained.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you murmured. You heard the sound of his pants opening, and the telltale sound of a condom packet being ripped open. You knew he was going to be rough, and Jesus, that was how you wanted it, wanted him.

He eased two fingers into you, twisting them in a circular motion, the sensation absolutely exquisite. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling. He moved behind you, standing between your legs, pushing them open. Slowly, he sank into you, filling you completely. You heard his groan of pleasure and it stirred something deep in your soul. He firmly grasped your hips, eased out of you, then he slammed back into you, causing you to cry out.

Bucky stilled for a moment. “Again?” he asked softly.

“Yes, please,” you murmured breathlessly.

He moaned low in his throat, pulled out of you, then he thrust forward, hard and deep, over and over, slowly, deliberately, a punishing, brutal, ungodly, heavenly rhythm. You scrambled for purchase, your nails scraping over the green felt, your body wound tight. His metal hand slid down your arm, his fingers lacing with yours, holding your hand as he pounded into you, increasing the rhythm, pushing you higher and higher, balancing you perfectly on the edge of sweet oblivion.

You were gasping, moaning Bucky’s name, completely at his mercy. You turned your head, and to your surprise, you saw Natasha standing partially obscured outside a half open door on the far side of the room. She was staring at you and Bucky, her cheeks drained of color, an unreadable expression on her face. At that moment, Bucky slammed into you, harder and deeper than before, his free hand sliding beneath you, one finger circling your clit, your body immediately responding, a soul-crushing orgasm exploding through you, a primal scream leaving you as you came. Through the haze of the intense pleasure rolling through you, you saw Natasha turn and hurry away.

You were vaguely aware of Bucky calling your name, his fingers tightening around yours, just before he came, tensing and collapsing on you. The two of you sank to the floor and he cradled you in his arms.

“Thank you, doll,” he breathed, covering your upturned face in feather light kisses.

You opened your eyes, smiling up at him, and he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “Your cheek is pink,” he murmured, tenderly caressing your face. 

“Worth it,” you laughed quietly.

Bucky kissed you again, then he helped you to your feet. He tossed the condom in the trash, tucking it beneath some papers, before helping you straighten you dress. He slung an arm around your shoulder, tucking you against his right side, and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Come on, I need food,” he said. “Sex always makes me hungry.”

You nodded and let him lead you out of the game room. You decided not to tell him about Natasha. He was in a good mood and you didn’t want to ruin it.


	12. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have an unexpected confrontation with Natasha. You and Bucky argue.

 

“Y/N?”

You jumped, water sloshing over the side of your glass and down the front of your shirt. You weren’t expecting to hear your name at four in the morning. You set the glass in your hand on the counter, grabbed the towel from beside the sink, and turned to look at the person who had said it.

Natasha was standing in the doorway, the hallway light backlighting her, accentuating her curves, her perfectly coiffed - really? at four a.m.? - hair, and her petite frame. A reminder that you were most certainly none of those things. You pushed a hand through your messy hair and tugged at the bottom of the shirt, desperately trying to hide your less than attractive thighs.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Well, it is four in the morning,” you groused, patting at the water on the front of your shirt. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone.” You dropped the towel to the counter, picked up your glass with shaking hands, and took a sip. What the hell did she want?

“You’re in the wrong place for that,” Natasha chuckled. “Lot of people live here with a lot of stuff that keeps them up at night.”

“Trust me, I know,” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure you do. Look, can we talk for a minute?” She gestured to the barstools at the counter.

You did as she asked out of stunned politeness, propping yourself on the edge of the barstool. You were grateful that it was mostly dark in the kitchen, otherwise your face would reveal every emotion you were currently feeling and quite honestly, none of them were good

“I promise to be brief, Y/N,” she said. “I know what you think of me. It’s quite obvious.” Natasha glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to you. “Look, we don’t have long. I’m sure Bucky will come looking for you soon. You were with him, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, unsure what she was getting at. You didn’t trust her. “But, you already knew that. I know you saw us last night.”

“That was an unfortunate accident, I swear,” Natasha muttered. She rubbed the center of her forehead with two fingers. “And far more than I ever wanted to see of you and Bucky. It certainly opened my eyes to how Bucky feels about you, though.”

“What do you mean, opened your eyes?” you asked.

She dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “ I’ve never seen him like that, so...uninhibited, almost out of control. Bucky isn’t...he’s not...he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved,” she said. “I’m not sure he knows how to deal with someone caring about him. It’s hard for him. He doesn’t think he’s worthy.” She paused, as if she was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, she continued. “I don’t understand why, but you seem to make him happy. And it’s obvious you have strong feelings for him.”

“I’m sorry?” you mumbled. “You don’t understand why?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she shrugged. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I...I just don’t get it. You’re not Bucky’s normal...type. I don’t get the appeal, why he’s so drawn to you.”

You pushed yourself to your feet. You should have known that talking to Natasha was a bad idea. It wasn’t like you didn’t doubt yourself every second of every day, and constantly wonder why Bucky seemed so enamored with you; Natasha verbalizing your feelings certainly didn’t help.

“I think this conversation is over,” you said firmly. You grabbed your glass of water, sipping it carefully, just to have something to do with your mouth. You were almost to the door when Natasha spoke again.

“Don’t hurt him, Y/N.” Her voice was cold, impersonal. “If you do, I will find you, and it will not be pleasant. I guarantee it.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, one hand on the door jamb, supporting yourself as your legs began to shake. Her threat took you by surprise; you had no idea Natasha’s feelings for Bucky were that strong. You pressed a hand to your mouth, swallowing around the lump rising in your throat. You hadn’t expected one of the world’s foremost assassins to threaten you.

“I would never hurt him,” you murmured. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than waste another minute of my time with you.” Anger and adrenaline, along with fear, were coursing through you as you stalked out the door and turned into the hall. You’d only gone a couple of steps when you heard Bucky call your name.

“There you are,” he muttered. “I was wondering where you disappeared to -” His mouth snapped shut as he passed the kitchen and caught sight of Natasha inside.

You spun on your heel. You just wanted to go back to your room and try to sort this mess in your head out. You wondered briefly if Bucky would follow you or choose her. A second later his hand closed around your elbow.

“Y/N,” he said. “What’s wrong?” He stared down at you, concern etched in the lines of his face.

“Why don’t you ask your ex?” you hissed acidly.

His mouth twisted and his steel blue eyes grew even colder. “I’m asking you,” he said, his voice soft but with an undertone of something more menacing.

“Natasha’s threatening to come after me if I ever hurt you,” you snapped. “You need to keep your attack dog away from me.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he growled. “Right now.” He spun on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

You turned to leave, but something stopped you, made you step closer to the door and lean against the wall, listening to their conversation.

“What the fuck are you doing, Romanoff?” Bucky’s voice was low and menacing, scary.

“I’m just looking out for you, Buck,” you heard Natasha say. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Y/N isn’t going to hurt me,” he muttered. “Let it go, Nat.”

“Does she know everything?” Natasha asked. “Have you told her everything? Told her about all of your issues?”

“I’m working on it,” Bucky replied.

“So, you haven’t,” Nat said. “She may not be able to handle it -”

“She loves me, Natasha,” Bucky cut her off. “She’ll understand.”

“Are you sure, Bucky? Really sure?”

“Enough, Nat,” he sighed. “She’ll understand. She loves me. I don’t have to play games with her. She’s different. I want you to leave her alone. Do you understand me?”

“What is her problem with me?” Nat mumbled.

“She’s jealous,” Bucky explained. “Of what we were. What we did.”

“Well, she needs to get over it,” Natasha grumbled.

“So do you,” Bucky snapped.

“You don’t miss it? What we had?”

“It’s in the past, Nat. Y/N is my future and I won’t jeopardize it in anyway.” Bucky replied. “We’re friends, Nat, nothing more.”

“We used to be more,” Natasha argued. “I used to be what you needed.”

“Used to be,” Bucky bit out. “If you can’t deal with just being friends, then maybe we shouldn’t even be that.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Buck,” Natasha whispered, so quietly you barely heard her.

“I’m not yours to lose,” was his reply. “You need to remember that.”

You heard his footsteps crossing the room. You didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping, so you turned and scampered down the hall to your room. Bucky knocked on your door a few minutes later and stepped inside.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“You talked to her?” you asked.

“You heard?” he said.

“A little,” you nodded. “What did she mean, have you told me everything?” You paused, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, you continued. “I know you have a lot of secrets, Bucky. Things you don’t want to talk about. But, Natasha is a thorn in my side. Our side. She may be your past, but unfortunately, she’s part of my present, and I need to work through my feelings about her. I need you to tell me about her, more than what you’ve told me. She seems awfully attached to you considering your relationship with her only lasted a few weeks.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Why the fuck does it matter? We had a very brief affair, she beat the shit out of me, I beat the shit out of her, and I fucked her in all sorts of ways you can’t even imagine, end of story.”

Shit, he was angry. Your intention had not been to make him angry, you just wanted to know, to understand. You bit your lower lip, blinking several times. You weren’t going to back down, not this time.

“Why are you so angry?”

“Because all of that shit is over,” he shouted, glowering at you. He sighed in exasperation and shook his head. He sat down beside you. “What do you want to know?” he asked wearily.

“I’m not trying to intrude, Bucky, I swear,” you murmured. “But she was obviously a big part of your life -”

“I know you’re not trying to intrude,” he muttered. “I just...I don’t like talking about this shit. Before you, I didn’t open myself up to anyone, with the exception of Steve.”

“And Natasha,” you added.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Maybe, yes. But not like I did with Steve, or even with you. A lot of what Natasha knows about me came from my file, not me sharing it with her. There will always be a part of me I hold back from Nat.” He shrugged. “I’m trying not to do that with you. You just have to be patient with me.”

“She cares about you,” you mumbled.

“Yes, she does,” Bucky nodded. “And I care about her, in my own way. But, it doesn’t come close to how I feel about you. If that’s what this is about.”

“I’m not jealous,” you scoffed. You were wounded that he would think that. Or maybe that was what this was really about. You pushed the thought away, deciding that was something to examine at a later date. You squared your shoulders and forced yourself to ask the question that had been eating at you for a while.

“Did you love her?” you asked.

“Maybe once, I thought I did,” he said through gritted teeth. “My feelings for Natasha are far different from what I feel for you.” He sighed heavily. “You know, she’s the one who pointed it out to me. She’s actually the one that encouraged me to talk to you. Her and Steve.” 

You stared at him, blankly. Maybe Natasha was on your side and maybe she was genuinely concerned that you would hurt him. The thought was almost painful. You would never want to hurt him, not after everything he’d suffered over the years. You scrubbed a hand over your face and shook your head. Why was it so hard for you to believe that Nat might have Bucky’s best interests in mind?

“Do you expect me to like her?” Your voice sounded bitter even to your own ears.

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “Though it would make my life a hell of a lot easier. I just...I don’t want you to let her come between us.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

“Try harder,” he said firmly, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m getting tired of this subject. I’m going to the gym.” He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Let it go. Please.”

“I can’t make any promises,” you groused. “And I’m sorry you’re getting tired of this subject, but until I work through it, we’re going to keep discussing it.”

“Feels more like we’re fighting,” he muttered.

“We’re not fighting, Bucky, we’re communicating,” you snapped.

Bucky closed his eyes briefly as he struggled to contain his temper. You swallowed and watched him, feeling anxious.

“I have to go,” he said quietly, yanking open the door and stalking out.

* * *

You couldn’t go back to sleep, you tried, but you kept tossing and turning, everything that had transpired on a constant loop in your head. Around seven you gave up, got up, and got dressed. You locked yourself in the office and found some busy work to keep your mind occupied. Before you knew it, half of the day had passed, the rest of the team had returned from their mission, and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything. Mumbling to yourself, you pushed away from the desk and made your way through the halls to the elevator.

You’d just hit the button to go upstairs and the door was sliding closed when a metal hand appeared between the doors and they opened. Bucky stepped inside, smiling as soon as his eyes met yours.

“Hey, doll,” he murmured.

“Hi,” you whispered. Jesus, he looked good. You hated that the two of you were at odds. You were tired of fighting over Nat and quite frankly, you didn’t want to do it anymore. You looked up at Bucky through your eyelashes. “What were we arguing about again?”

“Something stupid,” he said, edging closer to you.

You reached out and hooked your fingers in the waistband of his jeans, dragging him closer. “Definitely something stupid,” you smiled up at him. “How about we kiss and make up?”

“I like that idea,” Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you, his arms snaking around you, one hand at the nape of your neck, tipping your head back as his lips found yours, a groan leaving him.

Your fingers were in his hair, caressing his cheek as he pushed you against the elevator wall.

“I hate arguing with you,” he breathed against your mouth, just before his mouth slanted over yours. 

There was a desperation in his kiss, one that mirrored yours. Desire exploded in your body, all the tension of the day seeking an outlet, straining against him, seeking more from him. You were all tongues and breathing, hands and touch, and oh Jesus, the sensation was insanely sweet. Bucky’s hand was on your hip and he was pulling up your skirt, his fingers stroking your thighs.

“Are you wearing stockings?” he moaned, his thumb caressing the flesh above your stocking line. “Let me see this.” He pulled your skirt up, exposing the tops of your thighs. Stepping back he reached over and hit the stop button, the elevator coasting smoothly to a halt between the floors. His eyes were dark, his lips parted, and he was breathing as hard as you were.

You stared at each other, not touching. You were grateful the wall was against your back, holding you up while you basked in Bucky’s sensual, carnal appraisal of you.

“Undo the buttons on your shirt,” he ordered, his voice thick and husky.

God, he made you feel so wanton. You reached up and undid each button, achingly slow, so that the tops of your breasts were tantalizingly revealed.

Bucky swallowed, his throat moving, “Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” he growled.

Very deliberately, you shook your head, then you let your head fall back, exposing the line of your throat.

He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they were blazing. He stepped forward and put his hands on the elevator wall on either side of your head. He was as close as he could be without touching you. He leaned down and ran his nose against yours, the only contact between you. It was stifling hot in the confines of the elevator. You wanted him - now.

“I think you do, doll,” he murmured. “I think you like to drive me wild.” He reached for you, grabbing your leg above your knee and hitching it around his waist.

You could feel him against you, he was hard and wanting, his body flush against yours, his erection pressing against yours. His lips ran down your throat, nipping and sucking, marking you. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck, your back arching, eager for the friction.

Bucky groaned deep and low in the back of his throat as he held you against the wall and unbuttoned his fly. “Hold on, baby,” he murmured, magically producing a foil packet that he held between you. You took it and ripped it open, handing the condom to him.

“Mm, good girl.” He stepped back a fraction and slid the condom down his length. “I hope you’re not fond of these panties.” He tore through them, his metal fingers twisting in the fabric and ripping them from your body.

Your blood was pounding through your veins and you were panting with need. Bucky’s words were intoxicating, all of your angst and worry from the day forgotten. It was just you and him, doing what you did best. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he eased into you. Your body bowed and your head fell back, your eyes slipping closed, relishing the feel of him inside of you.

He pulled back and then moved into you again, so slow, so sweet. “Only you, doll,” he murmured against your throat. “There’s only you, no one else.”

You groaned, your fingers twisting in his hair, tugging gently. His words were an aphrodisiac, sending you spiraling into a crazy vortex of intense feelings. You surrendered yourself to his relentless rhythm, savoring every thrust, his ragged breathing, his need for you, reflecting your own. It made you feel powerful, strong, desired, and even loved - loved by this captivating, complicated man. You didn’t need the words, not when you could feel his love for you in ways you’d never anticipated.

Bucky thrust harder and harder, his breath tearing in and out of his throat, losing himself in you as you lost yourself in him.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky moaned, his teeth grazing your jaw, and you came hard around him. He stilled, clutching you, his own orgasm taking him, your name a harsh whisper on his lips.

Once he was spent, his breathing slowed and he kissed you gently. He held you against the wall, your foreheads pressed together, and your body was like jelly, weak but gratifyingly sated from the insane orgasm. Bucky set you on your feet, kissed your forehead, straightened your skirt, and buttoned the two loose buttons on your shirt, then he punched the combination into the keypad that started the elevator again. It rose with a jolt, allowing Bucky to hold you close, keeping you upright.

You dragged your fingers through your hair in a vain attempt to minimize that just-fucked look, mumbling under your breath about everyone knowing that you’d been fucked in the elevator. 

Bucky leaned over you, smirking. “You’ll do,” he chuckled, buttoning his pants and putting the now tied off condom in his pants pocket. He, of course, looked completely unfazed, smiling and relaxed, his eyes sparkling with almost boyish charm.

The doors opened, and to your chagrin, Tony and Steve were standing in the hallway. Steve was shaking his head and laughing, his hand over his mouth, while Tony was glaring at Bucky.

“Don’t abuse your access code to the elevators, Barnes,” he growled. “Or I’ll take it away.”

You scurried past both Tony and Steve, trying not to make eye contact with either of them, and hurried down the hall to your room in search of a new pair of panties.


	13. Handcuffs and Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You explore the contents of Bucky’s “toy” drawer. He chooses one to use with you.

Bucky was on the gun range, again. The recent adjustments to his arm had affected his aim - or so he claimed, you hadn’t notice any change, nor had Steve - so, he was spending more time on the range, trying to perfect his aim. Two, three times a day, promising he would get it, eventually, though it left you alone for a couple of hours at a time every night.

You’d showered and dressed in old sweats and one of Bucky’s t-shirts, and you were bored. You didn’t want to read, you were worried you would fall asleep, and you didn’t want to watch television, again, you were afraid you would fall asleep. You had decided that tonight, you would stay awake until Bucky returned so that the two of you could spend some time together with no distractions. So you were wandering around the apartment, wondering what to do that would keep you occupied for an hour or so. You finally dropped to the floor in front of Bucky’s drawer of toys and pulled it open.

An array of instruments and bizarre gadgets you’d never seen before were laid out in the drawer. You had no idea what they were or what they were for - most of them hadn’t come out of the drawer yet. You picked one up, egg shaped, connected to a remote by a cord of some kind. You turned it over in your hand and pressed the button on the remote, making it vibrate in your hand.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky murmured from the doorway.

You jumped and switched off the vibrating egg, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “H-hi,” you smiled nervously. “I-I was curious -”

He slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him, his blue eyes dark with something indescribable. “What exactly are you curious about?” he asked, his head tipping to one side, his lips twitching in amusement.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I feel like I’m trespassing and I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” he chuckled, sitting beside you on the floor. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s this?” you asked, holding up the small vibrating egg.

“That is called a bullet vibrator,” he explained patiently.

“Is it for me...or for you?” you murmured, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Well, it can be for both of us,” Bucky grinned. His voice dropped an octave, thick and sultry. “I could show you.”

Need curled deep in your gut, twisting around you, making you squirm. “I-I’d like that,” you whispered.

Bucky reached past you and pulled a pair of handcuffs from the drawer. “These, too,” he said, showing you the cuffs. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed.

“I promise you’ll like it,” he purred, his raw need for you so clear that you felt your heart leap in anticipation. Bucky pushed himself to his feet, the toys and a bottle of lube in his hand. He tossed them on the bed, then he took your hand, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. “And I promise if you don’t like it or anything we do, we’ll stop. Immediately. Just say the word.”

“Petunias,” you nodded.

“Petunias,” Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He tugged at your clothes, pushing down your sweatpants and pulling your t-shirt over your head. He led you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You stretched out across the bed, Bucky kneeling between your legs, his thumbs hooking your underwear and pulling them down. He tossed them over his shoulder, grinning wickedly at you as he removed his own clothes. He leaned over you, drawing you into a long, deep kiss, one hand caressing your breast, while he used the other to pick up the handcuffs. He closed them first around one wrist, slid the chain between the slats on the headboard, and finally around the other wrist, locking you in place.

“Too tight?” he asked.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to work correctly when you were both nervous and turned on at the same time.

Bucky’s hand slid down your stomach and between your legs, a groan leaving you when his fingers caressed the lips of your pussy, your hips rising off the bed toward his fingers. He moved down your body, his kisses hot, wet, and open-mouthed. By the time his head was between your legs, you were writhing with need. Two fingers slid into you, pumping slowly, massaging your inner walls. His tongue snaked out and slowly licked you, a moan escaping him as your taste flooded his mouth.

You could feel Bucky fumbling with something between your legs, then you felt something cold, wet, and round slipping inside of you. Already on edge, your nerves frayed, your immediate reaction was to tense up and push yourself away from him.

Bucky smiled at you, his blue eyes sparkling, his metal hand splayed across your stomach. “I got you, doll,” he murmured. “I promise to take care of you. You gotta trust me, okay?”

You nodded, relaxing into the bed. You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes closed. Bucky placed gentle kisses all over your stomach, hips, and thighs, distracting you as he eased the bullet inside of you.

Bucky’s lips closed around your clit, sucking gently as he turned the bullet on, the sudden vibration taking you by surprise, drawing a loud gasp from you. The combination of Bucky’s mouth and the vibrating bullet inside of you pushed you right up to the edge within seconds.

“Oh my God,” you moaned.

Bucky pulled your legs over his shoulders, his hands on your hips, bringing you to his mouth. His tongue slid into you, fucking you, the bullet slowly vibrating. You moaned obscenely, yanking on the cuffs, wanting nothing more than to grab his head and hold him tight against your aching pussy. Your hips bucked as you rode his tongue, undulating and writhing, desperate for more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groaned, grinding against his face.

Bucky hummed, a hungry, needy sound. He thrust two fingers inside of you, moving them in a come here gesture, pressing the vibrating bullet against your g-spot.

You were gone, coming so hard you felt as if fireworks were exploding inside of you. You held onto the headboard slats, riding out the orgasm as multiple waves of pleasure rushed over you, every muscle tensing, every nerve on fire, barely able to breathe. You’d never felt anything like it, never had an orgasm like it, not even with all of the things you and Bucky had done. This took pleasure to an entirely new level.

Bucky released you, though his mouth continued roaming over your thighs and hips, his fingers still inside of you, the bullet still vibrating. Your thighs were trembling, your stomach muscles jumping, your breath tearing in and out of your chest, and you weren’t sure you could handle much more.

Bucky moved up your body, sucking, licking, and nibbling, his lips closing around your breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth and tongue. By the time he reached your mouth, you were whimpering helplessly, yanking at the cuffs, desperate to touch him.

“You okay?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded weakly. “Jesus Christ, Buck,” you gasped. “That was -”

“What?” he laughed. “You’re not enjoying yourself?” He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock sliding against your pussy, the vibrator inside you jostling unexpectedly but oh...so deliciously. You rocked your hips, unashamedly rubbing against him, another moan sneaking past your lips. His hands and his mouth were all over your body, pushing you right up to the cusp of another orgasm.

Bucky kissed you, a glorious, deep kiss that just added to the intense feelings rushing through you. He rose to his knees, slid a condom down his length, pushed your legs open, and grabbed you, lifting your hips off the bed. He guided himself to your entrance and eased into you.

Your eyes squeezed closed and you momentarily forgot to breathe as your body adjusted to the unexpected feeling of fullness caused by having both Bucky and the bullet inside you. He didn’t move though, just held your hips until you opened your eyes and nodded at him.

Only then did he move, flexing his hips just a little, causing the bullet to shift, its vibrations stimulating you in ways you’d never imagined possible. He did it again, and your hips jerked, desperate for more. Bucky knew your body better than even you, knew instinctively what you wanted, so he started to move in a steady rhythm, the bullet vibrating against his cock with every thrust.

Everything was a blur of sensations after that - Bucky thrusting into you repeatedly, the bullet’s vibrations, the sound of skin sliding against skin, the intense pleasure overwhelming you, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening as you raced toward another orgasm.

Bucky’s fingers dug into your skin as his movements became more and more erratic, until he was blindly slamming into you, his head thrown back, eyes shut, low grunts of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. He pressed two fingers against your clit, massaging it roughly, holding you tight, buried deep inside you as he climaxed. You tipped over the edge, another orgasm consuming you.

Bucky leaned over you, kissing you tenderly as you were lying sprawled on the bed, a boneless mess. He switched off the bullet and gently removed it, tossing it aside, then he grabbed the keys to the cuffs from the bedside table and unlocked them. He massaged your wrists, brushing soft kisses over the marks left by you repeatedly tugging at them. Once you were free, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you to his chest.

You sighed and snuggled against him, careful to only touch those spots he’d said you could. “That was awesome,” you murmured.

“Hmm, so you liked it?” he whispered. You could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak again.

“See,” he chuckled. “I always keep my promises, doll.”

 


	14. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise car ride with Bucky turns into so much more than you ever expected.

“Hey!”

You looked up to see Bucky standing in the doorway. You dropped your pen to the desk and smiled. “Hey, yourself,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “What are you thinking? Walk the grounds? Movie night in the game room?”

“You want to go for a drive?” he grinned.

Your heart leapt and your stomach did a weird flip. You’d been cooped up in the compound for weeks; in fact, you hadn’t left since the dinner at the Tower. You were still on lockdown. But if Bucky could get you out, even for a little while…

“Are you joking?” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing, scared that he was just teasing you.

“No,” he laughed. “Stark got a brand new Audi R8 I want to break in. Thought you’d like to come with me.”

“I’d _love_  to come with you,” you giggled, jumping out of your chair and hurrying to his side.

You followed Bucky to the underground garage, your hand in his. Parked in front of one of the large garage doors was a black Audi R8. Bucky snatched the keys off the holder by the door and opened the passenger side door for you. You eased into the car, inhaling the new car scent as you buckled your seatbelt. A few seconds later, Bucky was in the driver’s seat, revving the engine, a wicked smirk on his face. He hit a button on the interior panel and the door rumbled open, then he hit the gas, the car leaping forward like a hungry predator hunting its prey.

The car flew down the long driveway, slowing only long enough to allow the gates at the end of the road to slide open, then Bucky punched it and you were flying. An excited squeal escaped you and you couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky was a phenomenal driver; it was astounding the way he handled the car as if it were an extension of himself, driving with his left hand, the right holding yours, letting go only to shift gears than grabbing your hand again.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the few moments you had alone with Bucky, no longer trapped inside the compound, afraid to even venture outside for fear that HYDRA was lurking around every corner.

Bucky squeezed your hand. “You okay, doll?” he asked.

“I’m perfect,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

The road in front of you was wide open and Bucky took full advantage, revving the engine up to an ungodly speed, the powerful car obeying his every command, weaving through traffic, hugging the curves, flying over the road. Within twenty minutes, he was slowing to drive through the sleepy little town north of the compound, a drive that he said normally took almost an hour.

You couldn’t stay, of course, it might not be safe, so once you reached the outskirts of town, Bucky made a quick u-turn. You were almost out of the city, close to the freeway, when you spoke up.

“Can I drive?”

Bucky shot a glance your way, before looking back at the road. “Can you drive a stick?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Please?”

Bucky glanced in the rearview mirror, then, decision apparently made, he whipped to the right, pulled onto the shoulder, dropped the car into first gear, and engaged the emergency brake. He pushed open the door and stepped out.

You scrambled to get out of the car, giggling wildly. Bucky held the door and gestured for you to get in.

“Are you sure?” you murmured, still slightly stunned that he would agree.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Now get in before I change my mind.”

Another giggle escaped you, your hands clasped in front of you. You were bouncing on your toes as you surged up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pointed at the car. “Get in, doll.”

Once you were in, the door firmly closed behind you, Bucky hurried around to the passenger side and jumped in.

“Eager, doll?” he asked with a wry smile as you caressed the steering wheel.

“Very,” you grinned.

You glanced in the rearview mirror and to your surprise, there was a black SUV parked behind the Audi. You glanced curiously at Bucky.

“Security,” he shrugged. “Sam and Clint.”

You nodded. You should have known that Bucky wouldn’t risk your safety for a car ride, even if you were safer with him than anyone else. You took a deep breath, put the car in gear, and eased onto the road. You managed not to stall it, surprising yourself, because the clutch was very sensitive.

“You sure about this?” you asked one more time.

“Yes,” Bucky said tightly, telling you that he wasn’t sure about it at all.

You wanted to laugh at both him and yourself because you were both nervous and excited. A small part of you wanted to see if you could lose Sam and Clint just for the fun of it. You inched onto the road, trying not to giggle at Bucky who was gripping the door handle so tight his knuckles were white. You weren’t sure what came over you, but the road was clear, so you pressed the gas and shot forward.

“Whoa, Y/N,” Bucky shouted. “Take it easy or you’ll kill us both.”

You immediately eased off the gas, stunned at how quickly the car could move. “Sorry,” you muttered, trying to sound contrite and failing miserably.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky smirking at you. “This counts as misbehaving,” he said calmly. “A punishable offense.”

The thought of Bucky punishing you made your stomach clench deliciously. You glanced in the rearview mirror, but the black SUV was nowhere to be seen. Maybe you’d managed to lose them after all. The only vehicle behind you was a nondescript blue sedan with tinted windows. You could just imagine Sam and Clint’s irritation and for some reason, the thought thrilled you. But, since you didn’t want to give Bucky a heart attack, you decided to behave and stay within the posted speed limit.

You’d only been driving for a few minutes when Bucky starting swearing and yanked his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

“What?” he snapped at whoever was on the other end of the line. “No.” He glanced behind you. “Yes, she is.”

You checked the rearview mirror, but you didn’t see anything odd, just a few cars behind you. The black SUV was a few cars back and everyone was moving at a steady pace.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

Tension was radiating off of him. Something was wrong. Without even thinking about it, you eased off the gas, the car slowing noticeably.

“Hold on.” Bucky lowered the phone from his ear. “We’re fine, doll. Keep going.” He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He returned the phone to his ear. “Okay, once we hit the 210. Yes. I will.” He dropped the phone in his lap.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

“Just watch where you’re going, doll,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to panic, okay? You have to try to stay calm. As soon as we hit the 210, that exit we took, the second we are on the 210, I want you to hit the gas but instead of going straight, take the southbound exit, the bridge over the river. We’re being followed.”

Your heart lurched into your mouth, pounding out of control, your scalp prickling. All of your senses went into overdrive, a sense of deja vu coming over you. They’d found you. HYDRA. Your adrenaline spiked. You’d been here before, on the run, doing your best to escape the insanity that was HYDRA. You weren’t surprised they’d found you again. Your eyes darted to the mirror again, and sure enough, that blue sedan was still behind you, following closer than it should have been. You tried to see through the tinted windshield, tried to see who was driving, but you couldn’t see anything.

“Keep your eyes on the road, doll,” Bucky murmured.

“How do you know we’re being followed?” you whispered, your voice breathy and squeaky. You silently prayed that he was mistaken, that he was just being overly cautious.

“The sedan behind us has false plates,” he said matter-of-factly.

You didn’t bother to ask how Bucky knew that, you were too busy concentrating on driving. You felt like you were balanced on the head of a pin, and you couldn’t fall, you absolutely couldn’t. It was the panic that would kill you or get you hurt. You knew this, you remembered. You could not panic. You took a deep breath, tried to get your breathing under control. You dragged in another breath, and this time, your mind began to clear and your stomach settled. You’d wanted to drive this car and you’d wanted to drive it fast. This was your chance. You gripped the steering wheel and took one more glance in the rearview mirror. The blue sedan was closing in on you.

You slowed down, ignoring Bucky’s panicked glance, and timed your entrance to the 210, forcing the blue sedan to slow down as well, practically coming to a stop as it waited for traffic to clear. You dropped down a gear and floored it. The Audi shot forward, slamming both of you back into your seats. The speedometer hit seventy-five miles per hour. You shifted again, turned the wheel to the left, shot between two cars, the sound of squealing brakes following you as you took the exit Bucky had indicated.

“Steady, Y/N,” Bucky murmured, his voice instantly calming you.

You wove between the lines of traffic, studiously ignoring the angry, disapproving looks from other drivers. Bucky clutched his hands together in his lap, keeping as still as possible, and in spite of the jumble of thoughts flying through your head, you wondered vaguely if he was doing it so he wouldn’t distract you.

“Good girl,” he breathed in encouragement, turning to look out the rear window. “I don’t see the sedan.”

Bucky’s phone lit up, so he snatched it off his lap. “Go,” he snarled. He seemed to be listening carefully. “No, Y/N’s fine. Provided the traffic remains light, we’ll be off the bridge in no time.”

You flashed past the bridge control tower, the halfway point. You checked your speed and noticed you were doing nearly ninety.

“You’re doing fine, doll,” Bucky mumbled, his eyes on the road behind you.

For a fleeting moment, his tone reminded you of the first time he’d tied you to the bedpost, when he’d patiently shown you that side of him he kept carefully hidden. But those thoughts were distracting so you dismissed them immediately. You had to focus.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“We’re taking a roundabout way back to the compound,” Bucky said. “We want to see if the sedan follows us all the way.”

“All the way,” you whispered. You didn’t want to lead them back to the one place you felt safe. You glanced nervously at Bucky, but he smiled reassuringly.

“You have to trust me, doll,” he whispered.

“With my life,” you nodded, refocusing on the road. The traffic in front of you had slowed, so you downshifted, crossed two lanes of traffic, whipped around a car driving insanely slow, then you punched it, accelerating back up to seventy. “What if it’s just some random car?”

“I’m not taking any chances,” Bucky snapped. “Not where you’re concerned.” He hit a button on his phone and set it down, his eyes still on the road behind you.

“The sedan’s cleared the traffic and picked up speed,” Sam’s disembodied voice floated from Bucky’s phone, calm and informative. “Buck, he’s doing ninety.”

“Shit,” you muttered. You pressed the gas and the car purred, jumping to eighty, ninety, ninety-five miles an hour.

“Keep it up, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “When we get off the bridge, get in the left lane.”

You slowed momentarily as you glided off the bridge and onto the interstate. It was fairly quiet, allowing you to cross over to the fast lane in a split second, lesser drivers pulling over to let you pass. If you hadn’t been so frightened, you might have enjoyed this.

“Over a hundred, Buck,” Sam said.

“Stay with him,” Bucky barked.

A truck lurched into the fast lane and you slammed on the brakes, both of you jerked to a stop by the seatbelts you were wearing.

“Fucking idiot,” Bucky cursed. “Go around him, doll.”

You did a quick check of the mirrors, then you cut across three lanes, speeding past slower vehicles before cutting back to the fast lane.

“Nice move, Y/N,” Bucky murmured appreciatively. “Where’s the sedan, Sam?”

“Closing fast, Buck,” Sam answered.

You stomach dropped and for a minute the world swam out of focus. Bucky’s hand settled on your thigh, squeezing gently. His touch grounded you. You shifted again, pushed on the gas pedal, and streaked past the traffic.

“Get off on the next exit,” Bucky barked at you. “Sam, Clint, did you get that?”

“Yeah, next exit,” Clint replied. “Head straight for the compound, Cap and Tony are waiting.”

You slowed, checked your mirrors, signaled, then you moved with surprising ease across three lanes of traffic and down the off ramp. Following Bucky’s directions, you turned right, then left, following a quiet road north, into the mountains where you knew the compound was located. You’d never gone this way before.

“Update, Sam,” Bucky ordered.

“Sedan just exited the interstate,” Sam said. “Tony wants you to take the underground ramp.”

“Copy that,” Bucky answered, hanging up the phone. “Y/N, in about a hundred yards, you’re going to make a sharp right, then drive straight, no matter what you see just keep driving.”

You did as he instructed, barely slowing as you turned, spinning the wheel in your hand, holding the center console as you turned, then pressing the gas, the car shooting forward, heading directly for a wall of trees.

“Bucky -”

“Just drive, Y/N,” Bucky ordered.

You closed your eyes at the last second, convinced that you had just driven yourself and Bucky right to your deaths, tangled around one of the sturdy oaks in front of you. But well after you should have felt the impact and heard the screech of metal, you opened your eyes. Your foot was on the gas, Bucky’s hand on the wheel, the car miraculously descending down into some kind of tunnel. You glanced in the rearview mirror to see the road literally closing behind you.

“Slow down, babe,” Bucky murmured. He pointed ahead. “Up there, swing left and park it the back corner.”

You downshifted, easing off the gas, finally coming to a stop right where Bucky had indicated. You turned off the car, pulled out the keys, and dropped them in the center console with shaking hands.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, his eyes searching your face.

“Sure,” you murmured.

“Well done, doll. Good driving.” Bucky stroked your cheek with the tips of his fingers, and you jumped at the contact, inhaling deeply. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath.

“My legs feel like Jello,” you mumbled. You were shuddering, every inch of you shaking.

“It’s the adrenaline,” he said. “You did fantastic, Y/N. You blew me away.” He touched your cheek tenderly with the back of his metal hand, his face full of a million different emotions.

Overwhelmed, a strangled sob escaped your constricted throat and you started to cry.

“Hey, doll, no. Please don’t cry.” Bucky reached over and despite the limited space, he easily lifted you over the center console and cradled you in his lap. He smoothed your hair off your face, he kissed your eyes, then your cheeks, and you curled your arms around him and sobbed quietly against his neck, huge gasping sobs that you’d been holding back for more than two years.

Bucky buried his nose in your hair and wrapped you in his arms, holding you tight, neither of you saying anything, just holding each other. After a few minutes, you pulled away and wiped the tears off of your face.

“Sorry,” you muttered, embarrassed by your crying.

“Don’t be,” he whispered. He tipped your chin up and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. He rested his forehead on yours, his fingers trailing up and down your back.

“Kiss me again,” you sighed.

Bucky froze, one hand on your back, the other resting on the curve of your ass.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Bucky’s lips parted as he inhaled sharply. He blinked several times, then his mouth was on you as he tangled his right hand in your hair, holding you in place, his left hand cradling your face. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you welcomed it.

Adrenaline turned to lust streaked through your body. You clasped his face between your hands, running your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks, relishing the taste of him. He groaned at your fevered response, low and deep in the back of his throat. Your gut tightened, swift and hard with carnal desire. Bucky’s hand drifted down your body, brushing your breast, your waist, over your ass. You shifted, just a little.

“Fuck,” Bucky gasped, breaking away from you, breathless.

“What?” you muttered against his lips.

“Y/N, we’re in the car, in an underground garage -”

“So?” you interrupted.

“Well, right now, I want to fuck you, and you’re shifting around on me...it’s uncomfortable,” he explained breathlessly.

Your craving for him spiraled out of control at his words, need twisting through your nerve endings. “Then fuck me.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. You wanted him. The car chase, the excitement, the terror, it had jump started your libido.

Bucky leaned back to gaze at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

“Here?” His voice was husky, thick with desire.

Your mouth went dry. How was it possible that he could turn you on with just one word. “Yes,” you moaned. “I want you. Now.”

He tilted his head to one side and stared at you for what felt like an eternity. His hand tightened around the nape of your neck, holding you firmly in place, and then his mouth was on yours again, more forcefully this time. His other hand skimmed down your body, over your ass to your mid-thigh.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing a skirt,” he murmured as he slipped his hand beneath it to caress your thigh.

You squirmed once more on his lap, pulling a hiss of air from him.

“Keep still,” he growled. He cupped your sex with his hand and you stilled immediately. His thumb brushed over your clit, your breath catching in your throat as pleasure jolted like electricity deep inside of you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, a warning. He kissed you once more as his thumb gently circled your clit through the sheer fine lace of your underwear. Slowly, he eased two fingers into your panties and inside you, making you groan and flex your hips toward his hand.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Mmm, you’re so ready,” he growled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, tortuously slow. “Do car chases turn you on?”

“You turn me on,” you gasped.

Bucky smiled a wolfish grin and withdrew his fingers, leaving you wanting. He slipped his arm under your knees and, taking you by surprise, he lifted you, swinging you around to face the windshield.

“Put your legs on either side of mine,” he ordered.

You do as you’re told, placing your feet on the floor on either side of his. He ran his hands down your thighs, then back, pulling up your skirt.

“Hands on my knees, doll,” Bucky said. “Lean forward.” He shifted beneath you and you heard the telltale sound of his zipper, then a foil packet being opened. He put one arm around your waist, lifting you, and with his other, he tugged your lacy panties to the side. He entered you in one swift move.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned, grinding down on him.

His breath hissed through his teeth, his arm snaking around you, his hand sliding up your neck so he could grasp you under your chin. His hand spread across your neck, pulling you back and tilting your head to one side so he could kiss your throat. His other hand gripped your hip and together you started to move.

You pushed with your feet, Bucky’s hips tilting up to meet yours. The sensation was unbelievable, so deep, so perfect. You braced your hands on the dashboard, pushing back against him. His teeth grazed your earlobe and he tugged, it was almost painful, the good kind of painful. He thrust again and again, you rising and falling, the two of you establishing a rhythm. The hand on your hip slipped beneath your skirt to the apex of your thighs, his fingers gently teasing your clit through the lace of your panties.

“We need to be quick, doll,” he breathed in your ear through gritted teeth. He increased the pressure of his fingers, drawing a moan from you.

You could feel the familiar build of pleasure, thick and deep inside of you. You moaned again, and you were all sensation, your eyes tightly closed. His voice at your ear, his breath on your neck, pleasure radiating out from where his fingers teased your body and where he slammed deep inside of you, you were lost, your body taking over, craving release.

“Fuck, yes,” Bucky hissed in your ear.

That was all it took, your body obeyed his voice, your orgasm exploding through you, your hands flat on the dashboard, pushing back against him, wanting to feel every inch of his hard length as you came undone around him.

A low growl left him, your name falling thick and feral from his lips, his own climax taking him. His hand tightened briefly on your throat and you couldn’t stop the groan or the shudder that raced through you, aftershocks of bliss that left you spent.

Bucky ran his nose along your jaw, softly kissing your throat, your cheek, your temple as you laid on him, your head lolling back against his shoulder. His teeth closed around your earlobe and he tugged, making you shiver.

Your body was drained, totally exhausted, a low whimper leaving you. It was a crazy feeling, to go from the rush of adrenaline to sheer exhaustion.

“We gotta move, doll,” Bucky groaned. “The team is on their way.” He pointed at his phone in the center console as if to remind you. “Tony won’t appreciate us fucking in his car, especially after you just drove it like a racecar driver.”

It took a few minutes, but you and Bucky were out of the confines of the car, looking somewhat presentable, by the time the team swooped in to meet the two of you. Tony shoved an iPad in Bucky’s hands, not even waiting for him to say anything, while Steve took your arm and led you back toward the elevators. You glanced over your shoulder, wondering what Tony and Bucky were talking about and what had happened to the men following you.

“Is Mr. Stark angry?” you asked Steve as the elevator doors slid closed.

“Maybe a little,” Steve chuckled. “Great driving by the way. Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Adrenaline,” you muttered, gnawing at your lower lip. “It was all adrenaline.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Prequel to Fifty Shades of Bucky for some background on the reader.


	15. The Past Won't Stay Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone from your past shows up at the compound.

“Sergeant Barnes, please report to conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice interrupted from the overhead speakers.

Bucky broke off the kiss with a groan, his hand under your shirt, the fingers of his metal hand tangled in your hair. He released you, took a step backwards and pushed a hand through his hair.

“Right now, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he grumbled. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Your presence is requested. As is Ms. Y/L/N’s.”

“What?” you murmured.

“Captain Rogers is requesting that _both_  of you report to conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

One of Bucky’s eyebrows arched, his head tipped to one side, a question in his blue eyes. “Tell him we’ll be right there,” he answered.

“Yes sir,” the A.I. responded.

Bucky grabbed your hand and dragged you close. “Wonder what that’s about?” he whispered before kissing you again. He kept your hand in his as he led you through the halls to the large conference room at the north end of the compound, pushing open the door and ushering you in ahead of him.

“Y/N!”

You froze, the voice taking you back two years. It seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion, your head turning, mouth falling open, eyes widening as the man at the table rose from his seat and hurried toward you. The next thing you knew, he was pulling you into his arms, his face buried against the side of your neck.

“Jesus Christ, we all thought you were dead,” he mumbled. “You just vanished off the face of the earth.”

“H-harvey,” you stammered. “What...what are you doing here?”

“Who the fuck is Harvey?” you heard Bucky mutter behind you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve take Bucky’s arm and pull him aside, whispering furiously. You did not like the look on Bucky’s face, a mixture of irritation and pure rage. Meanwhile, Harvey took your hand, guiding you to a chair at the table. He was talking, but you weren’t really hearing what he was saying; words weren’t registering through the shock of seeing former Senator Sheldon Wilner’s son - and your former boyfriend - sitting in the Avengers Compound.

“I-I don’t understand what’s going on,” you interrupted.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Harvey said. “Of course you have no idea what’s going on.” He shot a look to the other side of the table where Pepper and Tony were seated. You hadn’t even noticed them.

“Mr. Wilner has agreed to testify,” Tony said. “He’s here for protection, just like you, Y/N.”

“For how long?” Bucky snarled.

“As long as it takes, Sergeant Barnes,” Tony snapped.

“Could...could Harvey and I have a minute, please?” you asked, rising to your feet and moving away from Harvey. You needed space, air, something.

Bucky opened his mouth, but Steve wrapped his hand around his arm and pushed him toward the door, gesturing for Pepper and Tony to follow him. You didn’t miss Bucky’s angry glare as the door closed behind them.

“You’re testifying against your father?” you asked.

“No, I’m testifying against HYDRA,” Harvey said.

“Your father is HYDRA, Harvey,” you bit out.

“Do you know what I’ve been doing for the last two years?” he quipped as if you hadn’t just reminded him that his father was part of the most murderous organization on the planet.

“What?” you sighed. Harvey had a knack for changing the subject when he didn’t like where it was headed.

“For the last two years, I’ve been looking for you. I woke up the morning after our date and you were gone. And then my father...he was arrested, and suddenly my world was crumbling around me. I didn’t know what was real and what was a lie. And it occurred to me, that you might have the answers to those questions, that you could tell me what was true and what wasn’t. You were the only person I thought I could believe in.” Harvey folded his hands in front of him, squeezing them together tightly.

“Harvey -”

He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room in two long strides, his hand closing around your elbow. “I needed you and you were gone. Do you know what that did to me? You left me, Y/N, left me when I needed you most.”

You gasped in pain as his hand tightened around your arm, squeezing painfully. “I had to leave, Harvey, I had to. HYDRA would have killed me if they’d found me. Your father would have made sure of it.”

“My father’s not a murderer, Y/N,” Harvey scoffed, tugging you closer, his grip tightening. “My father is a scared old man who couldn’t stand up for himself. That’s it. He’s not a murderer, he’s not HYDRA, he was a pawn. That’s it. And that’s what I’m going to testify to in that hearing.”

“But it’s a lie -”

“It’s the truth as I know it,” Harvey interrupted you. “My truth. How could I believe my father is HYDRA? That he’s a cold-blooded killer? How can _you_  believe that? You know my father, Y/N. You worked for him for years.”

“Why are you really here, Harvey?” you murmured.

“I want you to think about what you’re doing,” he whispered hoarsely, the tips of his fingers digging into your arm. “Don’t destroy my father’s life. Do whatever you want to HYDRA, but leave my father out of it.”

The look in Harvey’s eyes terrified you. Fear washed over you, cold and unrelenting. You suddenly felt like you were drowning, unable to pull in a breath. You gasped, pulling in a giant lungful of air.

“Bucky!” you shouted.

The door burst open and Bucky strode across the room, Steve right behind him. Before you could blink, Bucky had Harvey against the wall, his metal hand around the man’s throat. Harvey’s feet kicked weakly and he batted uselessly at Bucky’s hand, his eyes bulging.

“Bucky, let him go,” Steve ordered.

“Don’t ever touch her again,” he growled. Bucky released Senator Wilner’s son and watched as he slid to the floor, gasping for air.

Bucky swung around and ushered you out of the room. He stopped long enough for you to tell Tony what had happened before leading you back down the hall to your room. Once your bedroom door closed behind the two of you, Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his muscled chest rising and falling slowly. His anger filled the air around you, tangible, so thick you felt like you could touch it. His jaw clenched as he brought his arms up and ran his hands through his hair and over the back of his neck. He opened his eyes, his blue eyes flashing.

“Are you okay, doll?” he asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“I-I’m fine,” you stammered. “Honestly, I’m good.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, wincing at the memory of Harvey grabbing you. “I can’t believe I ever dated that guy.”

“What?” he snapped. He was across the room in a heartbeat, grabbing you by the upper arms, pushing you into the wall by the bathroom door, his face inches from yours.

“You dated that guy,” he mumbled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You shook your head, staring at the ground. “Yeah we dated, for awhile. We were dating when I found the USB. I never got a chance to tell him why I left. He must hate me, blame me for what’s happening to his father.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky said. “You gotta remember that. HYDRA destroys everything it touches - families, relationships, people, they’re all just a means to an end. You’re helping us stop that.”

“I know,” you murmured, exhaling shakily, your head resting against Bucky’s chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Harvey. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you or anything. It just...I guess it’s not important to me anymore.”

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you,” Bucky whispered, his hand sliding up your neck to your chin, holding it in place as he brushed his lips across yours, just enough to set your skin on fire. “It makes me jealous. Unbelievably jealous.” He kissed you again, harder this time.

You gasped, the sharp intake of breath the only sound in the room. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you, a pleased smile on his face. He leaned over you, his tongue licking across your lips, begging to be let in. You opened your mouth, granting him access, whimpering a little as his hands settled on your waist, his body flush against yours, hard, muscled, solid. Your arms snaked around his back, your hands sliding up and down the well defined muscles underneath his t-shirt.

“I’m going to make you forget Harvey ever existed,” he snarled. “You’ll be screaming my name and you’ll remember that you’re mine.” He captured your lips in his, the kiss hungry and needy.

Your breath caught in your throat even as you returned the kiss, your hands tangling in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down your body until he was cupping your ass and with one tug he pulled you so tight against him that you could feel every muscle moving and tensing under the layers of clothes he wore. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him into you, moaning at the connection between you. It was electric.

Bucky broke away, panting. “Bed, now,” he ordered, pointing in that direction as he ripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and fumbled with the button and zipper on his low slung jeans. “And take off your clothes, everything but your underwear.”

You did as he instructed, peeling off your clothes until you were left in only a pair of red panties. You walked backwards, staring at Bucky as he stalked toward you, a hungry look in his eyes. His jeans hung so low on his waist you were able to follow the lines of his abdomen that formed a v, disappearing beneath his waistline. Your knees hit the bed and then Bucky was on you, pushing you down, his fingers twisting in your red underwear, causing it to rub deliciously against your warm center. You moaned, involuntarily digging your nails into his scalp.

Bucky growled, his fingers dancing over your damp panties, massaging you through the cloth, his hands everywhere, touching you in every way imaginable, until you were writhing in his arms. He pulled you under him, his hips nestled between your legs, his obvious arousal pressing into you. You squirmed, desperate for some kind of friction, the need for Bucky now running rampant through your body.

“Bucky…” you moaned.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his tongue ghosting over your body, moving from the sensitive skin just under your ear, down your neck, across your collarbones, and down your chest until he took your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the nipple before nipping at it lightly. He moaned low in the back of his throat, making your body thrum excitedly from the vibrations it sent rippling through you. You arched your back, pressing your body against his. Bucky responded, his hips grinding against yours, finally delivering some of the friction you were so desperately craving.

You slid your hand between the two of you, rubbing his hard cock through his jeans. Bucky growled, his eyes slipping closed, his jaw going slack as you worked your hand inside his jeans and moved it up and down his considerable length. His hand drifted down your stomach and past the waistband of the red panties until he was able to ease his finger into you, his thumb pressed against your clit, circling it slowly.

“So ready for me,” he murmured quietly as he nibbled at your earlobe, slowly pumping his finger in and out of your wet heat. “You’re mine, doll.”

“Yes, yours,” you moaned, “always yours, Bucky.”

He added a second finger as he sucked a mark into your neck, crooking them just right so that he hit the perfect spot, pressing and probing until you were nearly coming undone, your body on the cusp of release. You gasped, begging him to finish, to push you over the edge you were so precariously balanced on.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “I want to be inside you when you come, I want to feel you coming undone around me.” He sat up on his knees, pulling your underwear off before peeling off his jeans. He climbed back on the bed, slid a condom down his length, and moved back over you, kissing you gently as he entered you, pumping his hips agonizingly slow.

You held him close, your hands on his ass, your nails digging into his skin, silently urging him to move, your hips rising to meet his, but he seemed determined to draw it out, to take his time. He moved, each thrust gradually pushing him deeper and deeper inside of you, inch by inch, until you were burning with desire, not sure you could hold on much longer. Then with one final thrust and a deep growl, Bucky was fully seated inside you, his lips on yours, overwhelming you with the sheer amount of sensations he was awakening in you. He pulled your legs around his waist, then he was rocking into you, harder and deeper than you’d ever thought possible. He broke off the kiss and buried his face against the side of your neck as the two of you moved, matching each other thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together like magic.

You whimpered as each movement hit the perfect spot, and then, you were falling, drowning in the pure ecstasy that was Bucky as your orgasm consumed you, whiting out your vision, heat exploding through your body, every nerve ending on fire. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Bucky’s hand snaked between your bodies, two fingers circling your clit as his movements became more erratic and intense, until you were coming again, so hard you bit your tongue, Bucky’s name a curse on your lips.

He was right behind you, a satisfied groan that sounded distinctively like the word ‘mine’ falling from his lips as he came. He rolled off of you, collapsing to the bed beside you. He pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair while he kissed you, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He lifted your arm, examining the bruises left by Harvey, bruises you hadn’t even realized you had. A hurricane of emotions played across his face. You cupped his face in your hand, your thumb caressing his cheek.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said.

“He hurt you,” he growled.

“And you stopped him,” you reminded him. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you,” he sighed, his lips drifting up your jaw to your ear. “You’re mine.”

 


	16. Midnight Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Harvey at the compound, Bucky's more insatiable than ever.

You were sprawled across your bed, with Bucky tucked between your legs, your hands pinned at your sides by his, both of you fully clothed, though that didn’t seem to have any effect on the sensations exploding through your body.

Bucky ran his lips up your jaw, nipping softly, making you groan with need. God, you wanted him. Of course, when didn’t you want him? Bucky was like a drug, one you couldn’t get enough of, one you needed all the time. You wiggled, trying to get your hands free, but he held tight, chuckling under his breath.

“Bucky,” you gasped, one leg coming up to wrap around the back of his thigh, your back arching in a desperate attempt to get closer to him as he kissed you. “Stop teasing.”

“But I like making you squirm,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “It’s fucking hot.”

“Let me go and I guarantee I’ll make you squirm,” you murmured.

Bucky released your hands and rolled to his back, his hands behind his head and a grin on his face. You rose to your knees, kneeling between his legs, and unbuttoned his jeans. He sighed, a contented hum leaving him as you tugged down his pants and boxers, freeing him. You leaned over him and took him in your mouth, sucking hard, enjoying his gasp of astonishment as your tongue circled him. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his, the sapphire blue dark and full of carnal bliss.

He smiled at you, his eyes slipping closed, letting himself surrender to what you were doing to him. You knew how you made him feel, and it made you feel liberated and sexy as hell. The feeling was heady. You pulled him deep into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, slowly, taking your time, dragging it out.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, gently cradling your head, flexing his hips so he moved deeper inside of your mouth.

You moaned as you slid your mouth up and down his length, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deep into your throat again, laving the length of his cock, sucking harder and harder, one hand massaging his balls, the other stroking him as you moved up and down. He felt amazing, velvety hard, his body responding to every move you made.

“Y/N,” he moaned after a few minutes. “Fuck, doll, I’m gonna come.” Rather than stopping, you doubled your efforts, determined to give as good as you got, determined to make him come. A few seconds later he did just that, his cock jumping in your mouth, his balls drawing up tight, a filthy sound leaving him as he orgasmed.

You milked him dry, relishing in the sound of his pleasure. He looked down at you, his blue eyes dark with lust, a wicked, salacious grin on his face. He hooked his hands under your arms and dragged you up his body and then his mouth was on yours, a deep growl rumbling out of him, vibrating through you. He yanked your shirt over your head, throwing it carelessly to the floor, then he flipped you to your back and in one swift move, he had your sweats off and on the floor with your shirt.

You were naked beneath the clothes, forgoing undergarments, seeing as how you’d known where the evening was headed as soon as you’d gotten out of the shower to find Bucky waiting for you. When Bucky had brought up his plans for you, you hadn’t even balked. In fact, you’d been as anxious as he had been to get back from dinner in the common room.

Ever since Harvey had come to the compound, Bucky’s sexual appetite for you had been insatiable. Even after Tony had confined Harvey to his quarters, the super soldier’s attitude toward you had not faltered. It was as if he was claiming you as his, making sure everyone knew who you belonged to, including you.

As Bucky removed his clothes, his dark eyes never left yours, drinking in every inch of your naked form. He snatched the spreader bar, the newest addition to the toy collection, grabbed your left ankle, and quickly cuffed it. He tested how much room you had by sliding a finger between the cuff and your ankle, then he repeated the process with your right ankle, leaving your ankles a foot or so apart.

“This expands,” Bucky murmured, clicking something on the bar and pushing so your legs spread further apart. “Just like that. It keeps your legs open, leaving you to my mercy. It’ll be good, really good. You have to trust me, Y/N, okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, dragging in a deep breath. This was far hotter than you’d imagined, the thought of what Bucky could do to you was making you restless and needy.

“Good girl,” he smiled. “If you want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

“I will,” you said.

“Promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” you replied.

‘Mmm, this is going to be fun,” Bucky smirked, his eyes lit up with pure mischief. He crawled up the bed so he was kneeling between your legs, gloriously naked, and for the first time, you realized how powerless you were. He ran the fingers of both hands up the inside of each of your legs, slowly, tracing small circular patterns. You shivered, the difference between the feel of his flesh hand and his metal hand astonishingly erotic. “It’s all about anticipation, doll, about the next moment in time. What will happen next?”

His words penetrated right to the deepest, darkest part of you. You writhed and moaned, desperate for him to do something, anything. Bucky just continued trailing his fingers up your legs, teasing you. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs, but of course you couldn’t.

“Remember, if you don’t like something, just tell me to stop,” he whispered. Bending over, he kissed your stomach, soft, sucking kisses, all while his hands continued their slow, tortuous journey up you inner thighs, touching and teasing.

Your fingers clutched at the blankets on the bed as you did the only thing you could do; surrender yourself to Bucky, his mouth now moving down your body while his fingers traveled up your legs to the apex of your thighs. You groaned as he eased two fingers from his metal hand inside of you, your hips bucking up to meet them. Your body bowed as his mouth closed over you and he began a slow, sensual assault, his tongue swirling while his fingers moved inside of you.

Because you couldn’t close your legs, or move, it was intense, really intense, every inch of your body burning with need and desire. Your back arched as you tried to absorb the sensations, a whimper leaving you. Bucky soothed you, murmuring quietly as he pulled away, blowing softly on your sex, before continuing the exquisite torture, his tongue flicking out to tap lightly at your clit, then closing around it, gently sucking until you were falling, the orgasm consuming you. Because your legs were so far apart, held open, the orgasm went on and on, and you were gone, ungrounded, lost in sensation.

“We’re going to try something, doll. If you don’t like it, or it’s too uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll stop.” Bucky lifted you, sliding beneath you so you were sitting on his lap, facing away from him. He ran his hands up and down your sides, hips roaming over your neck and shoulders. He took both of your hands in his, picked up the leather cuffs, and quickly secured your wrists.

“Head and chest on the bed, doll,” he purred in your ear.

In a daze, you did as you were told; your knees drawn up, your ass in the air, your hands cuffed and resting above your head. You were completely vulnerable, completely his.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, doll,” he growled. You heard the rip of foil and a quiet sigh from Bucky, then his hands were on you, running down your spine, caressing your ass. He paused for a beat, then you felt the sharp sting of his hand connecting with your right butt cheek.

You moaned, wiggling just a little, the pain exquisite, perfect. “Again,” you gasped.

A low, dark groan tumbled out of him and he was quick to do as you asked, another hard slap sending heat rushing through you. He did it again, and again, each time better the last, each time stoking the fire burning inside of you. You felt his lips on your back, his fingers drifting over the warm skin of your ass, easing into you, stretching you open for him. Moments later, he was plunging into you, a groan leaving him as your warmth surrounded him.

“Easy,” you murmured, your hands fisting in the blanket.

Bucky stilled, his hand gentle on your waist. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, just...just let me get used to this,” you mumbled.

He eased slowly out of you, then gently back in, filling you, stretching you, once, twice, again and again until you were moaning ‘yes’ repeatedly, relishing the feel of him inside of you. He groaned and picked up the pace, moving relentlessly, harder and faster, bordering on painful, the sensation absolutely exquisite.

There was ecstasy in your helplessness, ecstasy in your surrender to him, in knowing that he could lose himself in you the way he wanted to. He slammed into you one final time, burying himself deep inside of you, igniting a spark in you, a spark that exploded out of you in blazing, blinding light. You let go, finding your release as you came again, loudly, crying Bucky’s name.

“Oh, fuck, doll,” Bucky groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he orgasmed, holding you tight against him.

When it was over, he fell to the bed beside you, his fingers deftly undoing the straps on first your wrists, then your ankles. He rubbed them gently, easing the mild ache in them. Once he was finished and you were finally free, he pulled you into his arms, and you drifted, eyes closed, exhausted, slipping into darkness.

* * *

You woke God knew how many hours later, heat surrounding you, your mouth so dry it felt as if you had been chewing on cotton. You extricated yourself from Bucky’s arms and made your way to the small kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You drained half of it in just a couple of swallows, leaning against the counter, your eyes closed. You loved the compound at night, it tended to be quiet and  peaceful, unlike the chaotic hustle and bustle of the daylight hours. Not that nights weren’t sometimes crazy, but for the most part, it was quiet.

The peaceful tranquility was shattered by a visceral, primeval cry that made every hair on your body stand at attention. You pushed away from the counter, the bottle of water falling to the ground as you ran back to the bedroom, the echoes of that horrible sound ringing in your ears, your heart thumping with fear.

You hit the light switch and Bucky’s bedside lamp came to life. It had no effect on him; he was tossing and turning, writhing in agony, another horrible scream of agony leaving him, the eerie, devastating sound lancing through you once more.

“Bucky?” You leaned over him and grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to shake him awake.

He opened his eyes and they were wild, vacant, scanning the room before coming back to rest on you.

“Get the fuck off of me,” he roared, his right arm coming up, his hand landing on your shoulder, and then he shoved you, hard enough to send you tumbling to the floor with a startled grunt. He burst out of the bed with an ungodly roar, slamming into the wall opposite the bed. He slipped to his knees with a groan, his hands fisted in his hair, tugging it sharply.

“No, no more, I can’t. Don’t touch me, Dr. Braun, please don’t touch me,” he mumbled under his breath, his head shaking from side to side, his chest heaving,a tremor shaking him from to head to toe, tears wetting his cheeks, his face contorted in anguish.

Despite the fear squeezing your heart in its cold hands, you crawled closer to Bucky, murmuring quietly. “Bucky? Baby, it’s me, it’s Y/N.” You knelt beside him, gently put your hand on his unscarred shoulder, and whispered his name again.

“Bucky, please,” you whispered.

His eyes danced over you, blue and wild, his pupils blown wide with fear. He stared vacantly at you.

“You were having a nightmare,” you explained softly. “But, you’re here, at the compound, with me. You’re safe.”

He blinked, his head turning slowly as he looked around, frowning as he took in his surroundings, before he turned back to you.

“Y/N?” he breathed, realization dawning in his eyes. “Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, moaning low in the back of his throat, a desperate, agonized sound. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you lied. “I’m fine.” You sat down beside him, your back to the wall. “What the hell was that?”

“Look, doll, I don’t think -”

“I don’t care what you think -” you interrupted. “I deserve to know what that was. If you and I are truly...together, than I have a right to know what I’m getting into.”

Bucky sighed heavily, his arms resting on his drawn up knees. He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair a couple of times. He stared hard at the white wall above the bed. His voice was low, rough, and strained when he finally started to speak.

“After HYDRA replaced my arm, they kept me on lockdown, drugged to the point that I didn’t even know my own name. They were systematically wiping my mind, stealing my memories, taking away everything that was Bucky Barnes, turning me into the Winter Soldier, the Asset. I was dangerous, especially in the beginning when I had little to no control over the arm. There was a...a...chair with a metal clamp that they used to hold me, strapped down, by my ankles, my arms, even my head. They’d lock the clamp around my arm while they worked to destroy my mind. I only ever saw guards and doctors. One of them was Dr. Braun.” Bucky visibly shuddered. “She...she was a psychologist. She drugged me, repeatedly. Her responsibility was to brainwash me, make me forget who I was, and turn me into their puppet. Her way of doing that was to...to…”

Bucky swallowed noisily, his head dropping, chin on his chest. He sniffed, his hand covering his eyes, mumbling incoherently under his breath. He reached out blindly, his hand covering yours, fingers intertwined with yours.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you nodded, scooting closer to him, shoulder to shoulder, still holding his hand, your other hand resting on his metal arm. “Yes, I need to know.”

“She...Dr. Braun used the drugs to force me to have sex with her, to do her bidding,” he mumbled, his eyes squeezed closed. “I was powerless, no control over what I was doing, no control over what she was forcing me to do. And my scars? Dr. Braun was...she was fascinated with them. She-she liked to touch them and if I flinched, she would get angry. If I wouldn’t do what she wanted, perform like she wanted, at best she would slap me, degrade me, and at worst, she’d have me beaten by the guards, beaten beyond recognition, knowing that I would heal quickly because of Zola’s experiments. More often than not, it was the latter.”

“Oh god,” you gasped, tears welling in your eyes. “That’s why...that’s why you don’t like anyone to touch your scars -”

“It reminds me of Dr. Braun and the things she forced me to do,” he said. “Everything about me, the reason I am the way that I am, that all leads back to what was done to me by HYDRA. They tore me apart and when they put me back together, they made me into a monster, made me into nothing worthwhile.”

“No, no, that’s not true,” you whispered, pushing yourself between his legs and grabbing his face with both hands. You kissed him and something seemed to snap inside of him. He pulled you into him, holding you close, his tongue invading your mouth, desperate and needy. He pushed himself to his feet, one arm around your waist, holding you flush against his body. He lowered you to the bed, pressing you into the mattress, sprawled on top of you.

One of his hands slid up your neck to clasp your jaw, his blue eyes locking on yours. “Don’t leave me, doll,” he whispered. “I need you.”

“Never,” you sighed, your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips a breath away from his. “I swear I’ll never leave you.”


	17. Safe Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you don't use the safe word during an intense session, Bucky starts to question your relationship and his part in it.

Bucky had asked you not to, specifically requested it of you, but you’d felt compelled, almost like you were under some kind of spell. It would only be for a few minutes, long enough to get the answers you needed. If anyone could give them to you, it was Harvey. He owed it to you, after two years of running, of living in fear, thanks to his father and HYDRA. It was the least he could do.

You made your way across the compound to Harvey’s quarters, where he had been confined for the last week, since his arrival at the compound and his confrontation with you. Clint was sitting outside the door, leaning back in his chair, feet up on the wall, an apple in one hand and a small pocket knife in the other, which he was using to peel the apple.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I need to talk to Harvey,” you replied. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on babysitting duty. And Bucky said no, we’re not to let you see him,” Clint shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Bucky doesn’t get to decide what I do,” you said, irritated that he’d gone so far as to tell Clint and God knew who else that you weren’t to see Harvey. “And he doesn’t decide who I talk to. I just need ten minutes.”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t think so, Y/N. I like my head attached to my body and if I let you in there, Bucky will kill me.”

“I’ll handle Bucky. Just let me in. Please, Clint? I just...I need some answers and I think Harvey might have them. Ten minutes, I swear.”

Clint looked up and down the hall, then with a heavy sigh, he dropped the chair to the floor. “I’ll give you five minutes, Y/N, and not a minute more. Promise?”

“I promise,” you nodded.

Clint rose to his feet, checked the hallway one more time, then he opened the door. He held his hand up, stepped inside, said something you couldn’t quite hear, then he gestured for you to come in. You squeezed past him, patting his arm as you did.

“Five minutes,” he whispered before pulling the door closed.

As soon as you were in the room, Harvey was smirking, his dark eyes roving over you. “Knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“Shut up, Harvey,” you ground out. “This isn’t a social call.”

Harvey stood up and shoved a hand into his pocket, one eyebrow raised, an engaging smile on his face, something you used to find attractive. “Come on, Y/N,” he tsked. “You came here alone. There can only be one reason for that.”

“First off all, gross,” you sneered, bile rising in the back of your throat. “Secondly, I’m not alone.”

“You mean bird brain out there?” Harvey scoffed, gesturing toward the door. “He’s not a threat.”

You couldn’t help it, you gave a hearty laugh at that. “Not a threat? You do know who you’re talking about, right? That man helped defeat an alien army with a bow and arrow, Harvey. Tell me, what is it that’s so special about you?”

“Shut up,” he warned you, palpable rage simmering just below the surface.

“Or what?” you shot back, suddenly feeling brave. “There’s nothing you can say or do that could scare me. I’ve got the Avengers as my back-up.”

“Do you really think you’re safe? That any of us are safe? You think a handful of superheroes in tights will stop them? They will come for you, Y/N,” Harvey spat. “I can guarantee it. There is no place you can hide. There isn’t anyone who can keep you safe from HYDRA.”

“I don’t believe that,” you murmured.

“Believe it, Y/N,” he said. “That man, Barnes, that you seem to care so much about? He’s HYDRA -”

“Not anymore,” you cut him off. “He’s not that man anymore.”

“Do you know that for sure, Y/N?” Harvey snarled.

The door behind you hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent, startling you. You spun around, coming face to face with Bucky, the murderous rage on his face frightening you, especially in light of Harvey’s words.

“Bucky -”

He didn’t wait for an explanation, he just took you by the arm and led you out of the room and down the hall, shooting a dirty look at Clint as you passed him, his mouth drawn into a tight, irritated line.

“Bucky, would you let me explain?” you muttered, trying to yank your arm free.

“There’s nothing to explain.” he snapped. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“I had questions -”

“Y/N, he could be dangerous,” Bucky cut you off. “You’re not thinking.”

“Maybe you’re not thinking, Bucky,” you shot back. “Do you really think Tony would let him in the compound if he was dangerous? Do you think he’d take that chance?”

“If it meant taking down HYDRA, he might,” Bucky said.

You hadn’t realized Bucky was leading you back to his room until he opened his door and pushed you inside, finally releasing your arm. You turned around, your arms crossed, glaring at the man in front of you.

“Do you know how bad I want to punish you right now, Y/N?” he growled, his eyes flashing in anger.

“What?” Confused, you took a step back, your legs hitting the couch.

“I want to punish you,” he repeated, his voice low and feral. “You disobeyed me and I want to punish you for it.”

“I don’t understand,” you muttered, dropping to the couch. “Y-you want to punish me?”

“Yes,” he snarled. “You disobeyed me and I want to punish you for it.”

“My...disobedience...that makes you want to punish me?” you murmured.

“Yes,” Bucky snapped. “It’s part of who I am, Y/N, part of what I am, part of my make-up. It’s a side of me I haven’t let loose with you, not like I have in the past.”

“But, you’ve spanked me, used the riding crop on me -”

“Those weren’t punishments, those were...that was for your pleasure and mine. I haven’t pushed the issue with you, the punishments. Other subs I’ve had, they’ve let me punish them when they’ve disobeyed me or gone against my orders. I’ve never done that with you.”

You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. You knew there had been others, of course, more than just you and Natasha, but you hadn’t let yourself think about them. You tried to keep yourself focused on you and Bucky and what the two of you shared, not letting the thoughts of other women creep in. If you let that happen, you’d go insane comparing yourself. It was hard enough knowing about Natasha, let alone anyone else.

“Did...did Natasha let you punish her?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Y/N -”

“Answer the question, Bucky,” you demanded. “Did Nat let you punish her?”

“Yes.”

It was like a slap to the face, knowing that Natasha had done something for him you hadn’t. You dropped your head into your hands and blew out a shaky breath.

“If it’s a punishment, won’t it...won’t it hurt?” you murmured, looking back up at him.

His eyes darkened like a turbulent storm. Time seemed to move and expand, slipping away from you before he quietly answered.

“It might. But it’s not about wanting to hurt you. It’s about the control, it’s about you accepting the punishment, accepting my need to control you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest and a chill ran through you. “Why do you need to control me?”

“I just need it.” He paused, gazing at you with anguish, his hands pushing through his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I told you, it’s part of who I am. I’m a monster. As much as I...I need you, as much as you mean to me, I still feel the need to control you, to punish you. But I won’t.”

“You won’t or you can’t?” you asked.

He stared at you warily. “I don’t know. Won’t, can’t, does it even matter? All I do know is that I can’t risk losing you. And I’m afraid if you see that side of me, the side that wants to punish you, the part that could hurt you and be okay with it, I will lose you.” Bucky crossed the room in two long strides, kneeled in front of you, and pulled you into his arms, his lips on yours, taking you completely by surprise. You could sense his panic, his desperate need for you coming through in the kiss.

“I can’t handle the thought of you leaving me, doll,” he murmured against your lips. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

Your heart felt as if it was turning itself inside out. Bucky was a man in need, his fear naked and obvious. He was lost, somewhere in the darkness that Dr. Braun and the monsters of HYDRA had forced him into. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, eyes that were wide, bleak, and tortured. You could soothe him, join him in the darkness, and maybe, try to bring him into the light.

“Show me,” you whispered.

“Show you?”

“Show me,” you repeated. “Punish me. I want to know.”

Bucky fell back on his haunches, completely confused. “You would try?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m willing to try for you. I know you need that control and I trust you. Then maybe once and for all, you’ll know I’m in this no matter what, that I can handle whatever you throw at me. Maybe you’ll finally believe that I love you.”

For a moment, Bucky looked torn, but then a steely resolve settled over his features, and his eyes narrowed, gazing at you speculatively, as if he was weighing the alternatives. He took hold of your arm, pulled you to your feet, and led you across the room to a red leather bench situated beneath the window.

“Bend over the bench,” he murmured softly, a nervous edge to his voice as he pulled it away from the wall.

You bent over the smooth, soft leather as he instructed, grasping the bottom of the bench. You were still wearing the dress you’d put on this morning and you were vaguely surprised that he hadn’t made you take it off.

Bucky unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the waistband of his jeans, grasping the ends together so it formed a loop. “I’m doing this because you disobeyed me, Y/N. You didn’t stay away from Harvey like I told you. I’m going to spank you six times and you will count with me.” He lifted the hem of your dress above your waist and gently caressed your ass, his hand running over both cheeks and down to the tops of your thighs.

“Use the safe word if you want me to stop, doll,” he said. That nervous edgy fear was gone from his voice and the atmosphere in the room had changed. “Do you understand? If I’m hurting you at all, you use the safe word.”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for the first blow. It came hard, snapping across your ass, the bite of the belt sharp, stinging. You cried out involuntarily and took a huge gulp of air.

“Count, baby,” Bucky ordered, his voice low and thick.

“One,” you gasped, your hands wrapping around the legs of the bench, holding tight.

He did it again, pain pulsing and echoing along the line of the belt, spreading through your lower extremities.

“Two!” The sound was a strangled moan as you tried to bite back the pain.

Bucky’s breathing was ragged and harsh, while yours was almost nonexistent as you held your breath, waiting for the next blow. The belt whistled through the air again, connecting with your ass.

“Three!” Tears sprang unwanted to your eyes, flowing down your cheeks, a choked sob coming from you. This was so much harder than the other times he had spanked you, even harder than when he’d used the riding crop, because Bucky wasn’t holding back, he was _punishing_  you, just like he’d said he would.

You were bracing yourself for another blow, hoping the tears weren’t noticeable on your face, when you saw the belt fall to the floor out of the corner your eye and land by Bucky’s feet, the light reflecting off the silver buckle, momentarily blinding you.

“Jesus, doll, come here,” he whispered, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’m so sorry. Christ, what the fuck have I done?” He pulled you into his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you okay?” His hands roamed over your body, apparently looking for injuries. “God, doll, I’m really sorry. I-I wasn’t thinking and I got carried away...You know I never meant to hurt you, right?”

“You weren’t hurting me, Buck,” you reassured him. “You didn’t have to stop. I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” he sighed. “Trying to make me feel better.” He lifted you, easily, and set you on the low couch, then he moved to the other side of the room, distancing himself from you. He paced back and forth, his blue eyes flicking your way every couple of seconds, alight with some heart wrenching emotion you couldn’t quite place, but one that made you very, very nervous.

“Bucky, what is it?” you asked quietly, shifting nervously, wincing as the sensitive skin of your ass rubbed against the couch.

“Why didn’t you use the safe word?” he snapped.

You recoiled, the harsh tone of his voice taking you by surprise. “B-because I didn’t need to -”

“But I was hurting you,” he snarled. “I saw your face, I heard you. You can’t just let me hurt you…”

“You weren’t hurting me, Bucky!” you said.

Bucky shot a glare your way, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side, the click and whir of his metal arm loud in the suddenly silent room. Something shifted, an odd tension you couldn’t quite place filling the empty space between you, then Bucky was taking a step back, moving even further away from you.

“I can’t do this,” he stated, too calmly for your liking.

“Can’t do what?” you murmured warily.

“I can’t hurt you,” he said. “And...and I’m afraid I’m going to, every goddamn day we’re together, I worry that I’m going to really hurt you.”

“I know you won’t -”

Bucky was across the room and standing in front of you before you could blink. He leaned over you, his face contorted in agony. “You don’t know that I won’t. Next time, I could go too far. I can’t let that happen, I _won’t_  let that happen.”

“What are you saying?” you whispered, fear’s cold fingers wrapping around your heart.

He turned his back on you, crossed the room, and pulled open the door. He didn’t look at you, just stared at the floor.

“I think you should go, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to go,” you shook your head.

“Now.” His tone left no room for argument.

You rose to your feet, walking toward him as if you were in a dream - a nightmare - hoping, praying he would stop you before you got out the door. But, Bucky just stared at the floor, refusing to meet your eyes. You stopped in front of him, needing just one more second to be in his presence.

“Bucky, please don’t do this.”

He put his hand lightly on your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple, then you were in the hallway, the door clicking closed behind you.

 


	18. An Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky makes a late night admission.

You stood in the hallway, staring at Bucky’s door for the next few minutes, wondering if he would open it and apologize, or if you should knock and demand he listen to you. But the door didn’t open and you weren’t sure your heart could take another blow, so you turned slowly and trudged through the halls to your room.

Once inside, you pushed the door shut and leaned against it, wincing as your tender backside brushed against the hard oak. You scrubbed a hand over your face, your hand coming away damp with tears you hadn’t realized you were shedding.

How was it that things kept getting so fucked up between you and Bucky? The two of you couldn’t get this relationship thing right no matter how hard you tried. You kept trying to give him what you thought he wanted, but it was never the right thing. Being in love wasn’t easy.

You pushed away from the door and made your way to the bathroom. You stripped off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and turned on the shower, making the water as hot as you could possibly stand. You stepped inside and let the water wash over you, your eyes closed, praying you could turn off your brain, shut down the noise that was trying to tear you apart.

By the time the water started to run cold, you’d decided you would give Bucky some time to get his head on straight, to remember that he needed you. That was all he needed. Time.

You dried off as quickly and as carefully as you could, slipped on a pair of loose fitting shorts and a t-shirt, and made your way across the room to your bed. You suddenly felt like you could sleep for a week, exhaustion falling over you like a thick, heavy cloak. You slipped between the cool sheets and closed your eyes.

Despite the fatigue clawing at your brain, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, mumbling to yourself, every brush of material against your sore and sensitive backside a reminder of what had happened between you and Bucky.

You’d been lying in bed for more than an hour, examining the ceiling tiles, tracing the patterns with your eyes, when you heard it, two quiet taps on your door. Before you could say anything, the door opened. You glanced over your shoulder and watched as Bucky crossed the room, a resolute look on his face. He set a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bedside table, then the bed shifted as he pulled the sheet back and climbed in beside you. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, burying his nose in your hair and pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed softly against your skin, his voice achingly sad. “Please don’t hate me.”

You turned slowly in his arms so you could face him, your head resting on his right arm. You caressed his cheek, the tips of your fingers dancing over the stubble. The anguish on his face tore at your soul, causing deep, aching wounds, much worse than the superficial wounds your skin currently bore.  

“I don’t hate you,” you murmured.

“You should,” he sighed. “I told you, Y/N, I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Bucky,” you ground out.

“But I am,” he argued. “You don’t understand. When I was punishing you, beating you with the belt, it fucking turned me on. I was so goddamn hard it hurt and all I could think about as I hit you was how badly I wanted to fuck you after I punished you. What kind of person does that?” He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. “And when I saw the tears on your cheeks, heard the sobs you were trying to hold back, something snapped inside of me and that’s when I knew I should let you go, because if I didn’t, I would eventually hurt you and drive you away. I thought maybe if I was the one to let you go, it wouldn’t hurt so bad.” He kissed a line along the edge of your jaw, his lips trembling against your skin. “I was wrong.”

“Didn’t take you long to realize that,” you whispered.

“I realized it the minute the door closed behind you,” he replied. “I tried to hide in my room and pretend I wasn’t dying inside because I’d sent you away. Then I got an earful from Steve and damn near a punch in the face, thanks to Clint telling him I told you to stay away from Harvey, and I was acting like a jealous asshole. When I told him I’d sent you away he about tore me to shreds. Threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come talk to you.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here?” you asked. “Because Steve’ll kick your ass?” You weren’t sure you could handle it if that was the reason for his change of heart.

Bucky smiled warily. “I’m not afraid of Steve, doll. I still see him as the skinny punk I knew in ‘41, despite our time in the war. I’m here because I fucked up and I need to know if I can fix it. And to beg you for forgiveness.” He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you said.

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you, puzzled. “For what?” he mumbled.

“Because, I don’t think I can be everything you need me to be,” you replied.

His eyes widened and his fearful expression returned. He swallowed, his throat clicking noticeably. “You are everything I need,” he said. “I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you. I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve someone as good and as pure as you. I shouldn’t ask you to be something you’re not. I shouldn’t ask you to love a monster like me.” He closed his eyes again, a myriad of emotions crossing his face, and when he opened his eyes again, his expression was bleak. “That’s why everything inside of me is screaming at me to let you go. You deserve somebody better.”

Goosebumps broke out all over your body and the world fell away, leaving nothing but a wide, yawning abyss of pain and agony for you to fall into. Bucky’s words tore a hole in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You dragged in a staggering breath as you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.

“You deserve to be loved,” you whispered, tears swimming in your eyes. “I wish...I wish I could make you see that. Please, Bucky. I love you and I don’t want you to let me go.”

“It’s not what I want, either,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. He gently stroked your cheek and wiped away a falling tear with his thumb. “I feel like I’ve come alive since I met you.” He traced your lips with his thumb.

“Me too,” you sighed. “I love you, Bucky, you know that. Please, I - _we_  - need to keep trying, keep working on this. You’re the only man I want, no matter what.”

“How can you love a monster?” he murmured.

You put a finger to his lips, silencing him. “You have to stop saying that. I don’t see you as a monster, I only see the man I love.” You brushed a kiss across his lips, soft and gentle.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered against your lips.

A startled gasp left you and then Bucky’s fingers were tangled in your hair, tipping your head back as his mouth slanted over yours, the kiss hesitant and unsure, not the dominating, confident, in charge Bucky you were used to. You wanted to hurt everyone responsible for hurting Bucky, for making him feel like a monster, for making him feel like he didn’t deserve love. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one leg sliding over his, the kiss deepening as you pushed yourself closer to him.

Bucky’s hands slid down your body and inside your shorts, cupping your ass. You hissed as he skimmed the still sensitive skin, cutting off his apology with another kiss. He pulled you flush against his body, his warmth seeping into you, his hands sliding up your sides, just under your breasts. He slowly kissed along the edge of your jaw and down your neck, sucking gently on the spot where your neck and shoulder met.

You took hold of his wrists, guiding his hands to your breast. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs circling the nipples, drawing a whimper from you. He moved slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid you would bolt, shifting to his knees between your legs. He slid your shirt up your stomach, his lips drifting over your warm skin, his touch tender. He pushed the shirt up and over your head, letting it fall to the floor, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around the nipple once, twice, before suckling it gently.

Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you and repositioning you against the pillows behind you. He moved down your body, over your ribs and down your stomach, his kisses soft and sweet. He hooked his fingers in your shorts, peeling them off of your body before pulling your legs over his broad shoulders and placing tender kisses to the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He dragged his tongue through the lips of your pussy, moaning obscenely, the sound vibrating through your body, a shiver racing through you from head to toe. He did it again, over and over, each time pressing in a little harder, a little deeper with the tip of his tongue. His right hand slid under your ass, splayed across one cheek, drawing you closer to his mouth, his tongue circling your clit, then sucking it between his lips.

“Bucky, stop teasing,” you whimpered.

His tongue flattened, sliding into you, one finger from his vibranium hand slipping in alongside his tongue, crooking slightly, the sensation enough to cause your back to arch, your hand to fall into his hair and your fingers to tangle in the long locks. Bucky pushed his tongue deep inside of you and pulled you tight against his mouth. You were on fire, heat spreading from your core into every part of your body as he devoured you. Your hips jerked, rising to meet his mouth, and his nose brushed against your clit, sending you reeling.

You gasped his name as the sensations blew through you, your nails digging into Bucky’s shoulders as the orgasm consumed you, your moans of pleasure filling the room as you came.

But Bucky wasn’t done with you. He slid another finger inside of you, twisting it in a “come hither” gesture as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the tiny nub of nerves until you were writhing uncontrollably. The pleasure was too much to bear; you unconsciously tried to move away from him, catch your breath, collect your wits, anything, but Bucky held you tight and before you realized what was happening, another orgasm shot through you, making you dizzy with desire and need.

When he finally released his hold on you, you were so wrung out that you could barely move. Bucky pulled off his clothes and took a condom from the drawer before slowly making his way up your body, raining kisses over your stomach and ribs. He spent a considerable amount of time sucking, nibbling, and licking your breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples between his fingers, dragging you back into the depths of ecstasy with every touch. He continued up your body until he reached your neck, leaving marks across your shoulders and all over your throat. You were a mewling mess, whimpering with need, a light sheen of sweat covering you, your legs quivering as you throbbed with desire.

Bucky’s hand was between your legs, his fingers running up and down your inner thigh, stroking your leg, dancing over your aching core, then down your other thigh. He sucked a mark into your neck as his fingers slid inside you. You moaned, your face pressed against his chest, your hips grinding against his hand.

You plucked the condom from his hand, reached between his legs, and took his hard cock in your hand, stroking him slowly. His hips tilted, moving with your fisted hand. Now he was groaning, his breath hot against your neck as you opened the condom packet and slid it down his length.

The two of you were completely wrapped around each other, lying side by side, limbs intertwined. He pulled your leg around his waist, guided himself to your entrance, and eased into you. You pushed yourself down on his cock, grinding against him, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit, the pressure intense and perfect.  

Bucky thrust up into you, his tongue buried in your mouth, exploring and tasting you as his cock filled you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a slow, easy pace, your bodies moving together effortlessly. You moaned quietly into his mouth as the pleasure engulfed you, consuming you, taking you to heights you’d never experienced. Your mind was gone, completely intoxicated by the feeling of Bucky inside of you, of Bucky pleasuring you in the best way possible.

With one last thrust, Bucky slammed into you, his face buried against your neck as he came. You shattered apart, your body buzzing with pleasure, your entire being shuddering. You collapsed against Bucky’s chest, your arms around his neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzled the spot right beneath your ear, a contented sigh leaving him.

You pushed his hair off of his face, tipping your head to catch his lips in yours, kissing him softly. “Bucky?” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Promise you’ll talk to me?” you begged. “Promise me you won’t make rash decisions about the two of us without talking to me? There’s two of us in this relationship and you need to remember that. We can’t keep doing this, we can’t keep fucking this up. I can’t do it anymore.”

Bucky cupped the back of your head, his forehead resting against yours. “I know, doll, and I’m sorry. I promise you, I’m done fucking this up. But you gotta be patient with me. I’m new at this relationship stuff and I’m still figuring it out. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, then he whispered “I’ll be right back” before pushing himself out of the bed and sauntering to the bathroom. You rolled to your side, pulling the pillow under your head and closing your eyes.

You were almost asleep when Bucky crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you back into his arms. You turned your head, resting it against his chest. To your surprise, he hugged you closer, instead of pulling away like he normally did. You decided to take a chance, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder, right where the scars were most prominent. Bucky tensed, but it was brief, over before you could blink, his hands tightening minutely on your back. You brushed your fingers through his hair and kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I love you, Buck,” you murmured.

Bucky’s breath whispered across your temple when he said, “I love you, too, doll.”


	19. Self-Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fly to D.C. with your protection detail to testify. Things don’t go as planned.

“Romanoff, do you copy?” Bucky asked.

You struggled to pull yourself back into your seat, your nails scraping along the metal floor, wondering if Natasha had responded to Bucky or if the other quinjet had gone down in the fire fight. You shot a quick glance at Harvey out of the corner of your eye, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were squeezed closed, his hands gripping the armrests, and he was mumbling to himself, words you couldn’t understand.

This wasn’t supposed to happen; Steve and Tony had promised you that you would be safe, _Bucky_  had promised you that you’d be safe and you’d had no reason to doubt them, not until the first explosion had rocked the quinjet, throwing you to the floor.

* * *

  _ **One Hour Earlier** _

_“Thank you for coming, Ms. Y/L/N,” Senator Jolson murmured, shaking your hand. “I know this wasn’t easy for you. Your cooperation is very much appreciated.”_

_You smiled graciously at the Senator from Illinois. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope it helped.”_

_“More than you know,” she responded. “We can count on you to testify again, if necessary, correct?’_

_“Of course,” you nodded. “Whatever you need.”_

_“Excuse me, Senator,” Steve interrupted, “but we need to go.” He nodded at the senator as his hand closed around your elbow and then he was ushering you through the building to the quinjets waiting outside. Natasha, Harvey, and two former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, men Captain Rogers said he trusted, following right behind you._

_Bucky met the two of you at the ramp, a gun held loosely in his left hand. He took your hand, and led you on board, scowling at Harvey as he followed you onto the jet. Bucky pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead._

_“We’ll be back at the compound in no time,” he murmured, pushing you into your seat and fastening the seatbelt around you. “You did great.”_

* * *

Your stomach dropped as the quinjet spun out of control, gorge rising. A high-pitched whine filled the cabin, making your head throb right between your eyes. You tried to pull yourself into the chair, but you couldn’t get your feet under you.

“We’re going down!” you heard Bucky yell. “We’ve lost both engines and the thrusters are shot. Does anybody copy?”

You managed to turn your head and look over Bucky’s shoulder out the window. The side of the mountain was coming at you, closer with every second that passed. You heard metal groaning as the quinjet hit the top of some tall pine trees and tilted sideways, throwing you against one wall. Pain exploded through your head as you slid to the floor, blood immediately running into your eyes.

Bucky’s metal hand closed over yours, his eyes wide and panicked as he dragged you toward him, his voice a fading echo in your head as blackness crept over you.

* * *

  ** _Ten Minutes earlier_ **

_“Steve, did you see that?”_

_You looked up from the book you’d been reading, the worried tone of Bucky’s voice frightening you. You looked out the windows, but you didn’t see anything, nothing but clouds surrounding you, the other quinjet a faint outline in front of you._

_“Two bogies, one on each side,” Bucky muttered, sitting up straight, his shoulders tensing noticeably._

_You caught a flash of orange out of the corner of your eye, then an explosion off to the left. You dropped your book to the floor and fumbled to undo your seatbelt. You pushed yourself out of your seat, falling to your knees beside Bucky._

_“What is it?” you murmured._

_He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the next explosion rocked the quinjet, the nose lifting, Bucky struggling to keep it centered. You fell to the floor and slid backwards, slamming into the seat you’d previously been occupying._

_“Y/N, get in that seat and buckle in!” Bucky shouted. “Now!”_

* * *

You came to slowly, your vision blurred and tinted red. You put a hand to your head, wincing as the tips of your fingers brushed against a golf ball sized lump on your temple.

“Bucky?” you murmured.

“Don’t move, doll.” His voice sounded far away and fuzzy. You blindly reached for him, but he wasn’t there.

“Bucky?” You struggled to move, to sit up, to follow the sound of his voice.

“Damn it, Y/N, I said don’t move,” Bucky snapped.

You could hear someone moving around, hear ragged, wet breathing, and low moans, but you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open, pain lancing through your head every time you tried. You could feel the blackness creeping back in, the sound of your heartbeat whooshing in your ears, the smell of blood surrounding you.

You were falling, diving back into the blackness where there was no pain, no anguish, no one trying to kill you. You murmured Bucky’s name again and then you felt yourself being lifted and it was Bucky, his face grim, set in hard lines. He lifted you, holding you to his chest, and then he was running, cradling you close as he moved.

You felt the heat before you heard it, the warmth washing over you just seconds before the explosion threw you and Bucky ten feet through the air. The two of you were on the ground for less than thirty seconds before Bucky was on his feet again, running into the thickest part of the forest, trees on every side.

Bucky slid to a stop two hundred yards into the forest and gently set you down. He stripped off his jacket and handed it to you.

“Put that on,” he ordered.

You did as he asked, doing your best to wrap the heavy black leather jacket around yourself, despite your overwhelming need to curl up and go to sleep, despite your aching head. You watched Bucky as he paced in a tight circle around you, murmuring quietly into the comm every few seconds.

“Bucky, what happened?” you whispered.

He crouched beside you and pushed a strand of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “We’re assuming it was HYDRA,” he explained. “They took out one of the decoy quinjets flanking us and Steve’s jet sustained some damage. The other quinjet is just...gone. One of our engines and the thrusters were hit, which sent us into a tailspin. We almost hit the side of the mountain, but I managed to set her down in that small meadow.”

“The explosion?” you asked.

“They followed us,” he said, rising to his feet once more, his gun still in his hand. “I think they knew which quinjet you were in. Steve said they veered off as soon as we went down. They’re coming for you.”

A wave of dizziness washed over you - whether from Bucky’s words or your injuries you didn’t know. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and tried to calm your breathing. “Wh-where’s Harvey?” you murmured.

Bucky looked pointedly at the burning quinjet and back at you, shaking his head just once. You slapped a hand over your mouth, stopping the sob threatening to escape. You hadn’t cared for Harvey, but you certainly hadn’t wanted to see him dead. Especially not by the men who controlled his father.

Bucky knelt in front of you again. “You gotta keep it together, doll,” he said calmly. “I know that every part of you is screaming to freak out, but you can’t. We’re gonna have to move here real soon and I need you in control of all your faculties. Can you do that for me?”

“I c-can t-try,” you stammered, nodding vigorously, only to deeply regret it a moment later.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured. “Look at me.”

You did as he asked, your eyes locking on his grayish-blue ones. Just looking at him instantly calmed you. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“I’m gonna get you out of this, Y/N,” he promised. “I swear I am.”

* * *

**_Twenty-four Hours Earlier_ **

_“You ready for this?” Bucky asked._

_“I guess,” you shrugged. “I’m a little nervous about going into D.C. I feel so vulnerable, being out in the open. Last time we left the compound, HYDRA tried to kill me.”_

_“Trust me, doll, I haven’t forgotten,” Bucky growled, obviously remembering the leisurely drive that had turned into a car chase. “But we’ve got this. Tony’s sending four quinjets, two as decoys, one as back up and the one you and Harvey will be on. That’s the one I’ll be flying.”_

_Just the sound of Harvey’s name had you rolling your eyes. He was the other reason you didn’t want to go to D.C. The thought of spending an hour and a half on a quinjet with your ex-boyfriend, who had somehow become a colossal ass, did not make you very happy. Your only consolation was that Bucky would be there._

_“Who else is going?” you asked. “Besides you and Steve?”_

_“A couple of former members of the S.T.R.I.K.E. team that Steve trusts,” Bucky answered, watching you carefully. “Clint and Sam. And Romanoff.”_

_You blew out an exasperated breath. You should have known Nat would be going; she was, after all, an Avenger, and they were tasked with protecting you. That didn’t stop the irritation that prickled like electricity along your skin._

_Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his arms, one leg thrown over yours. He nuzzled your neck with his nose, sighing a little in the back of his throat. You wiggled closer, allowing Bucky’s warmth to encompass you completely._

_“Get some sleep, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”_

* * *

“Copy,” Bucky muttered, lifting you higher, so you were tucked right up against his side. “We’ll be at the rendezvous point.” He glanced down at you. “Just a little further, doll. Steve’s coming with another quinjet. We just gotta get to that clearing over the next rise.”

You nodded, brushing at the tears sliding down your cheeks. Not only were you in excruciating pain - you were pretty sure you had a concussion - but it was much colder in the mountains, and you were starting to feel it deep in your bones, despite the warmth of Bucky’s jacket. But you could do this. You had to do this.

“Come on, doll,” he murmured.

Ten long minutes later, the two of you slipped out of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Bucky leaned you against the nearest tree, one arm around your waist, his forehead pressed to yours. You’d barely had time to catch your breath before you saw the quinjet materialize out of thin air right above the field.

“There’s our ride,” Bucky grinned.

The first bullet hit the ground at your feet halfway across the clearing, kicking up the dirt. Bucky didn’t hesitate; he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, sprinting toward the lowering ramp of the quinjet. Over his shoulder, you could see at least ten men burst from the treeline, guns raised, racing toward you and Bucky. Another bullet flew past your head, close enough that you felt your hair lift off of your forehead.

Bucky skidded to a stop just as Steve ran down the ramp to meet you, his shield flying from his hand, hitting one of the men behind you, then returning to him immediately. Bucky pushed you into Steve’s arms.

“Get her out of here!” he yelled.

“Buck, what are you doing?” Steve replied, pulling you into his arms.

“If I don’t stop them, they’ll follow us, take out the jet,” he shouted, raising his voice to be heard above the jet’s engines. “This ends now! You get her back to the compound!”

“Bucky, no!” you screamed, reaching for him.

But he ignored you, swinging around, gun raised, racing back toward the men shooting at him. Steve dragged you up the ramp, his eyes on his best friend.

“Take off,” Steve ordered, before handing you off to Clint and racing back down the ramp, shield raised, following Bucky.

“God damn it, Clint, let me go!” You fought to break free, irrationally thinking if you could go after Bucky, you could convince him to come back, to get on the quinjet with you.

“Nat, go!” Clint shouted over his shoulder. He hit a button on the wall and the ramp began to close. “Sam, give me a hand, will ya?”

Sam appeared at your side, he and Clint dragging you deeper into the quinjet, despite your protests. You finally wrenched yourself free and ran to the window, just in time to see Bucky and Steve disappear into the forest.


	20. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is missing and all you can do is wait for his return.

The squeak of a floorboard on the other side of the room drew you from the light slumber you’d fallen into. You sat up so quickly the nausea came roaring back, making your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Bucky?”

Wanda stepped into the dim light cast by the bedside lamp. “Sorry, Y/N,” she murmured, her Sokovian accent thick and sing-song. “It’s only me. The door was open -”

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “Come in.”

She crossed the room as if she was floating, set a steaming mug on the table, and perched on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” you mumbled. You laid back against the pillows, one hand pressed to the bandaged cut on your head, watching the beautiful redhead carefully. You wondered if she was there to deliver bad news.

“Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary?” she asked.

You shook your head, wincing as pain shot like a spike through it. “I can’t be in there,” you whispered. “I wanted to be here.”

 _Here_ was Bucky’s room. You’d left the infirmary, under the protests of Dr. Cho and Bruce, and gone straight to his room. You’d curled up in the middle of his bed and wrapped your arms around his pillow, surrounding yourself in his scent. You hadn’t moved, waiting for word about Bucky and Steve, waiting for Bucky to come home.

You cleared your throat. “Has there been any word?” you inquired.

“Not yet,” Wanda replied. “I promise to let you know the minute we know anything. Drink your tea.” She pointed at the mug, patted your leg, and disappeared back out the door, leaving it open in her wake.

You watched her leave, wondering how she could be so calm, so unfazed by Bucky and Steve’s disappearance. Their comms were down, had been for hours, making you imagine the worst possible scenarios, scenarios no one else believed to be true. How could they do this, day after day, rushing into the face of death without batting an eye? You were losing your mind, every minute that passed without their return like a torturous descent into madness, while the rest of the compound went on like it was just another day.

All of this was your fault. Bucky would be here, safe, if he hadn’t had to protect you from HYDRA. You were the reason he and Steve had run back into the woods, because they were trying to keep you safe, trying to protect you.

All your fault.

Outside the door, you could hear voices, a lot of voices, and peopling moving through the halls, rushing, hurrying to do God only knew what. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, straining to hear, wondering what all the commotion was about. You prayed it was Bucky and Steve.

You stumbled to your feet and made your way to the door, leaning against the door jamb, waiting, watching. After a couple of minutes, Natasha appeared at the end of the hallway, straightened her shoulders, then she resolutely marched toward you.

“Y/N,” she said as she came to a stop in front of you.

“Natasha,” you replied. “What’s going on?”

“Steve’s GPS was activated,” she explained. “Clint, Sam, and I are going to check it out.”

“Bucky?” you murmured.

“We’re hoping he’s with Steve,” Natasha stated. “We’ll know soon enough.” She spun on her heel and headed back down the hall. About halfway down, she turned around. “Look, I know you’re worried about him. We’ll find him, Y/N. We’ll find him and he’ll be okay. Bucky’s...resilient, resourceful. You shouldn’t worry about him.” She started back down the hallway, turning back after only two steps. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I...I was wrong about you. You’re good for James, Y/N, and I can tell he loves you.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because Natasha was gone, disappearing back the way she had come.

* * *

Another three hours passed without contact from anyone - not Bucky and Steve, nor the team sent out to find them. You’d slept for a little while, but Bruce had sent Wanda in to wake you when you hadn’t answered his repeated calls. Wanda tried to convince you to return to the infirmary, if only to ease Banner’s concerns, but you’d refused, begging her to try and understand why you needed to stay where you were. She reluctantly agreed, promising to talk to Bruce for you.

The closer it got to the twenty-four hour mark, the more restless you became. Despite the pain in your head and the exhaustion you felt, you couldn’t seem to get any rest. You finally crawled out of bed and made your way to the common room - the one you’d come to think of as yours and Bucky’s - and made yourself some soup. You were sitting at the counter, trying to eat and staring out the window when you saw the quinjet materialize just above the landing pad closest to the infirmary. You were off the chair and heading for the door before it had landed.

“Y/N!” Wanda met you at the door. “There you are. They found them.” She was out of breath, as if she’d been running through the halls. “They’re taking them straight to the infirmary.”

“Are they okay? Is Bucky okay?” you gasped.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “Come. We’ll go together.”

You followed her back through the compound to the infirmary. You could hear the shouting before you’d even gotten to the door, the sound of it making your heart pound in fear. Organized chaos was the only way one could describe the insanity happening in the small hospital unit as you stepped inside. People were running everywhere, shouting, preparing the room for what was to come. Your eyes darted around the perimeter of the room, searching for Bucky.

The double doors that led to the outside landing pad burst open. Two members of the hospital staff were guiding a large gurney on which Dr. Cho sat. She was actually sitting astride someone who was lying deathly still; her hands were poised over their heart, counting off the chest compressions while one of the nurses used a bag to blow air into the patient. They ignored everyone as they flew through the small triage area and into one of the operating rooms, the fluorescent lights glinting off of the metal arm hanging off the side of the gurney.

You felt the scream building in your throat as you watched Bucky’s still and silent form being wheeled away from you. The world was spinning on its axis and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You hit your knees, the scream ripped out of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your vision tunneling and finally going black as you collapsed to the floor.

* * *

You slipped into the seat across from Tony, Wanda's hand on your elbow. She hadn't left your side since you'd collapsed in the infirmary, sticking close to you at all times. Once you were seated, she took the seat beside you, one arm on the back of your chair, her fingers brushing your shoulder. You were grateful for her presence.

Tony had called the meeting a short time after Bucky and Steve were brought in, demanding Bruce give the team an update on their conditions.

"Alright, Banner, let's have it," Tony said, immediately silencing the rest of the team. He’d reluctantly agreed to let you attend the meeting only because of your close relationship with Bucky and Wanda’s assurance that if he didn’t, she’d melt his suit.

Bruce gave a quick rundown of Steve’s injuries, emphasizing that he was healing quickly. They were keeping him in the infirmary, forcing him to rest after a night spent in the freezing cold with injuries that would have killed anyone else.

“What about Bucky?” Natasha asked the question before you could.

Bruce cleared his throat, fidgeting with a stack of papers in front of him. “He’s been shot,” he explained. “The problem is, it appears that HYDRA didn’t use a regular bullet, at least not one like I’ve ever seen. It’s embedded deep in his left shoulder, it’s huge, and it tore up a lot of muscle and tissue on its way in. But the oddest part is that it’s emitting an EMP burst every ten to twenty minutes. Cho and I think it was intended to disable his arm and keep it disabled, but the first burst did more than that. It caused one hell of a heart attack. Every subsequent burst is only doing more damage. He’s not dead, but he’s barely hanging on.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sob about to burst out of you. Wanda rubbed your back, her forehead resting against your temple.

Bruce gave you a sympathetic smile, but he continued. “The bullet somehow burrowed beneath the arm, something drawing it toward the vibranium, so we haven’t been able to get to it. We, well, we’re going to have to remove the arm to remove the bullet.”

“So why haven’t you?” you mumbled. “If Bucky’s dying -” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your mouth snapping closed.

“We need Shuri,” Bruce said softly. “She built the arm, she knows how it’s connected to the nerves, the muscles, the surrounding tissue. Helen and I are afraid if we try anything, we’ll make it worse. The princess is on her way from Wakanda, so all we can do is wait for her to get here, do our best to keep him alive.”

“There has to be something else -”

“There isn’t,” Tony cut you off. “Cho and Banner consulted with Shuri. She agrees that the arm needs to come off. It’s the only way to get to the bullet. Removing the bullet saves Bucky’s life. Period. T’Challa promised to get her here as quickly as he could.”

You blew out an exasperated breath, but you couldn’t argue with Tony or Bruce. You had no doubt they knew what they were talking about. “Can I at least see him?” you murmured.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded. “I’ll take you down to see him right now.”

You nodded gratefully and followed him out of the room with Wanda at your side. Once you reached the hospital wing, Bruce led you to the back of the infirmary to a medium-sized room dominated by a hospital bed and every piece of hospital equipment imaginable. Bucky was lying in the bed, unbelievably still. Your heart stuttered painfully in your chest as you rushed to his side. You barely noticed Bruce drag a chair across the room, placing it beside Bucky’s bed until he tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to have a seat.

Wanda waited until you were seated, then she knelt in front of you. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

You waited until Bruce and Wanda had stepped out of the room and the door had swung closed behind them before reaching over and taking Bucky’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. He was extremely pale and he had dark purple circles under his eyes. There was an oxygen mask covering his face, wires coming out from beneath the hospital gown he was in, and an IV in his right arm. His skin was cold to the touch and it scared you, on a deep visceral level. The very real possibility that you could lose him was wrapping its icy hands around your heart and squeezing. You choked back a sob and laid your head on the bed beside his arm.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Bucky,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare.”

Your only answer was the hiss of the oxygen tank and the beep of his heart monitor. You squeezed his hand and brushed at the tears running down your cheeks.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, your head on the bed, his hand in yours, while silent prayers ran on repeat through your head, but your eyes were heavy with exhaustion. You needed sleep, but you didn’t want to leave Bucky’s side. You leaned back in the chair and scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to stay awake. The monitor behind you gave a loud beep, startling you, then the next thing you knew, the room was exploding in sound, alarms, bells, and beeping, Bucky’s body tensing and twitching. You jumped to your feet, turning toward the door, only to be elbowed out of the way by several nurses, Dr. Cho, and Bruce. You backed across the room, jumping when Wanda suddenly appeared at your side.

“Get her out of here, Wanda,” Bruce ordered, yanking back the blankets covering Bucky, his eyes dancing over the various machines and monitors. Dr. Cho leaned over Bucky, her palms pressed against his chest.

“Bruce,” she snapped, drawing his attention back to her. “It was another burst from the EMP.”

“What’s happening?” you demanded.

“Wanda! Now!” Bruce yelled.

Wanda dragged you toward the door, even though you fought her every step of the way. Her hands and eyes glowed red, the door flying open behind her. She shoved you through it and just before it slammed closed, you heard the words that brought your world crashing down around you.

_“We’re losing him.”_


	21. Not Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to live with the consequences of the assassination attempt on your life.

You walked toward the coffin, slowly, every step taking more effort than you could seem to summon. Your stomach was tied in knots, your hands shaking, tears sliding down your cheeks, and you didn’t want to go any further.

You felt Steve’s hand on your elbow, his reassuring voice in your ear, promising you that it would be over soon, that you could do this, that you were strong enough to do this. You nodded, forcing yourself to move forward. You stopped beside the coffin, choking back a sob. You glanced over your shoulder, but your eyes were too blurred with tears to see him. You dragged in a deep breath and looked down.

This was wrong, completely wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be _him_  in the coffin, not _him_. Not after everything that had happened, not after all you’d gone through, it couldn’t be him.

Not Bucky.

You woke with the scream in your throat, the sheets clenched so tight in your hands that your knuckles ached. You gasped for air, sucking in lungful after lungful, trying to hold back your cries, your cheeks wet with tears.

Not Bucky.

Wanda appeared at the bedroom door, a question in her eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “S-sorry if I woke you.”

“I was awake,” she lied smoothly.

You shook your head, wondering what you had done to deserve her friendship, her protection. You weren’t worth it. It could only end badly.

“What time did Tony say it starts?” you asked, glancing at the clock beside the bed.

“Ten,” she replied. “I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you whispered. “You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Wanda merely nodded. You were glad she didn’t offer any meaningless platitudes; you’d heard enough of those over the last few days to last a lifetime.

You laid back down, wondering if you could go back to sleep. Probably not, though you’d certainly try. You were going to need every ounce of strength you could summon to get through the day.

* * *

You stared at the feed on the television in the corner, the one Tony had arranged to have piped into the compound. You couldn’t leave to go to the funeral, not for lack of trying, but with HYDRA still trying to kill you, Tony - and Steve - had forbidden it. No amount of arguing on your part had changed their minds.

“What do you think Bucky would do to me if he knew I let his girl walk into danger like that?” Steve had asked. “He’d kill me, that’s what.”

You hadn’t been able to argue with him, so you’d agreed to Tony’s compromise; he would have a live feed sent into the compound so you could at least attend the funeral remotely. Not as good as being there, but it would have to suffice.

You folded your hands in your lap and stared at the screen, looking at the people who were there - more people than you’d expected, to be honest. You wiped at the tear sliding down your cheek and snatched a tissue from the box on the table. Wanda squeezed your knee and smiled gently.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’ll be okay,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure you would.

It felt wrong to not be there, to be sitting hundreds of miles away while others mourned his life and paid their respects. Despite what everyone said, despite their assurances that it was completely understandable why you couldn’t be there, why you shouldn’t be there, you still felt awful, as if you were failing him somehow. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him or the horrible way he had died. Someone who’d cared about him should have been there, not people who’d barely known him.

You watched silently as those people who’d barely known him got up and spoke, memorializing him. Even the senator from Illinois - Senator Jolson - said a few words. They all rang false in your ears. None of these people had known him, none of them had understood him. You weren’t even sure you really had. It was like they were talking about a stranger.

The funeral was nearly over - your head pounding thanks to all the crying - when Steve opened the conference room door.

“It’s time,” he said.

You nodded, rising to your feet and hurrying after him, waving goodbye to Wanda over your shoulder. He held the door for you, letting you in first, though you knew he was just as anxious as you. You slipped into the chair, the same one you’d occupied off and on for the last week, and took Bucky’s hand.

“Bruce said it could take a while for him to wake up,” Steve explained, taking a seat on another chair near the wall, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “Probably not as long as it would take anyone else, but a little bit. And he’ll probably still be tired for a while, most likely want to sleep even after he wakes up.” He went silent for a moment, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Are you doing okay? After the funeral, I mean?”

“I’m doing okay,” you replied. “It was just a little weird, seeing all of those people talking about Harvey like they knew him, when none of them really did. It was surreal. And I still feel bad -”

“Y/N, you know you couldn’t go,” Steve shook his head.

“I know,” you sighed. “I just...allow me my guilt for a minute, Steve. It’s the only thing I have.”

“I understand guilt,” Steve smiled and shook his head. “It’ll eat you alive if you don’t control it.”

Bucky stirred, his hand twitching in yours, drawing your attention away from your conversation with Steve. Your heart raced in anticipation; you’d waited a week for something, anything, from the super soldier, something to indicate he was going to be okay.

After the heart attack that had nearly killed him, Cho and Banner had put Bucky in a medically induced coma, hoping to stop the constant shocks to his heart from the EMP embedded bullet. It had kept him alive while they waited for Shuri to arrive and while she removed the vibranium arm - a long, drawn out surgery that had left everyone stressed and exhausted. Once the arm was removed and the bullet was retrieved, Bucky had been kept in the coma, in the hopes that it would aid in his healing. It had taken a week and several blood transfusions from Steve before the medical team had felt confident enough to wake him.

Bucky turned his head, his eyes opening, his nose scrunching just a little as his coma-fogged brain cleared and recognition dawned on his face. He squeezed your hand and smiled weakly.

“Hi,” he croaked, his voice thick and low from lack of use.

“Hi,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his whiskered cheek.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Bucky -” you shook your head. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

He turned his head, catching sight of his friend on the other side of the room. “Steve,” he grinned weakly. “Spit it out.”

Steve rose to his feet to stand beside Bucky’s bed. “You got shot with some crazy HYDRA bullet,” he explained. “It was screwing with you big time, Bruce couldn’t get it out, so Shuri had to come remove your arm, otherwise you would’ve died.”

“EMP bullet?” Bucky inquired.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “How’d you know?”

“HYDRA developed it years ago, as a way to kill me, if necessary,” he sighed. “Never knew if it would work or not, but the threat was there. Guess they decided to take a chance. Sounds like it woulda worked, too. Is that what they hit me with in the field?”

“Looks like it,” Steve said.

“The arm?” Bucky murmured.

“Shuri said you can have it back once she runs some diagnostics,” Steve stated. “She told me to tell you to quit breaking her stuff.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. “Tell her I’m sorry.” He yawned and closed his eyes, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “M’tired,” he mumbled, shifting restlessly.

“We’ll let you sleep,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his face.

Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened. “Stay here, doll,” he whispered. “I need you right here.”

You pulled your chair as close to the bed as you could and rested your head on the pillow beside Bucky’s. “I won’t go anywhere,” you promised. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

You watched from the doorway of the shooting range as Bucky aimed the gun and fired. He dropped his arm as Shuri tapped furiously at the computer in her hands, smiling and nodding.

“Again, please, Sergeant Barnes,” she said, rising to her feet and pointing at the target on the other side of the room.

“Bucky,” he corrected her.

“Bucky,” she laughed. “Once more, please.”

He did as she asked, raising the gun and firing. She tipped her head to one side, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes roaming over the vibranium arm.

“I think it is calibrated correctly,” she said. “But only you will know for sure. You’ll tell me if anything feels off, right?”

“Of course,” Bucky nodded. “Are you going back to Wakanda in the morning?”

“California,” she replied. “I’m visiting the outreach center.”

“Alone?” Bucky asked, concern coloring his voice.

“No,” Shuri smiled. “Nakia will be meeting me there.”

Bucky stretched out his hand, his fist meeting Shuri’s, a quick bump before she gathered her things and hurried from the room, smiling as she passed you. Bucky took a few seconds to remove several wires attached to his arm, then he was at your side, his lips pressed to your temple, his arm sliding around your waist.

“How are you feeling?” you murmured.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Good as new.” His metal fingers flexed against your hip.

“It’s only been two days since you woke up,” you argued, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m a super soldier, Y/N,” he responded, for what was probably the hundredth time. “I heal quickly thanks to the serum. And the blood transfusions from Steve.”

“Bruce said he wasn’t sure that helped,” you pointed out.

“But we don’t know it didn’t,” he added. He brushed your hair off of your forehead, his finger tracing the small cut that would surely be a scar left there after what you’d come to call the “quinjet incident.” His eyes were narrowed and guarded. “What about you? How are you doing?”

“A few headaches here and there,” you said. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Bucky looked like he didn’t believe you, but he let it go, his fingers curling around yours, tugging you into the circle of his arms. He cupped your cheek, tipping your head back, his lips just brushing across yours.

“Mm, Bucky,” you hummed, your hands on his chest. “Maybe you should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough,” he murmured. “I slept for a week and for the last two days I’ve been resting, letting Banner and Cho poke and prod me, and Shuri run her tests. I’m done. I’m getting antsy.” He kicked the door closed and threw the lock before pressing you into the wall, his body flush against yours, his hands on your waist, his teeth nibbling at yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the kiss all consuming. He shoved his knee between your legs, pushing his thigh against your center, heat immediately settling in the pit of your stomach, desire running through you.

“Jesus, doll, I’ve missed you,” he growled, his lips drifting down the length of your throat.

“I’m right here, Bucky,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky abruptly released you, leaving you gasping for air and chasing after his lips, want coursing through your veins. He picked you up easily, your legs sliding around his waist, and carried you across the room. The next thing you knew, you were falling into his lap as the two of you landed on the old, vinyl chair office chair by the desk.

His hands clamped down on your waist, moving you so you were straddling him, your skirt sliding up your thighs until it was resting just below the curve of your ass. You could feel his arousal, his hard length pressing against your rapidly dampening center. His hands slipped up your sides and beneath your top to cup your breasts, his lips on your neck.

“Bucky, someone might walk in on us,” you murmured, glancing at the door over your shoulder.

“Door’s locked,” he mumbled, yanking your shirt over your head and unhooking your bra, pulling it down your arms and dropping it to the floor before he cupped your breasts, his thumbs grazing the nipples, bringing them to attention.

You couldn’t hold back the groan, couldn’t stop the slight arch of your back, pushing your breasts into his hands, or the minute tightening of your thighs around Bucky’s legs, the line of his jean clad length pressing into you. You trembled as his teeth tugged at your earlobe and his hot breath blew against your skin.

“I want you, doll, right here, right now,” he whispered.

Some odd, incoherent sound came out of your mouth; the sound of Bucky’s desire threaded through his words had your brain scrambled. Bucky hadn’t touched you since before the quinjet accident and over the last couple of days, once you’d known he was going to be okay, you’d been unable to think about anything other than Bucky’s hands on your body. You’d missed him, missed being with him. You let out a deep, shuddering gasp when his hand slipped under your skirt, his fingers roughly shoving aside your underwear, pushing up and into you, brushing against that spot that made your eyes roll back in your head and your heart pound so hard you thought it might explode.

“Open my pants,” he growled, his voice lust thick and demanding.

You moaned, your forehead resting against his, fumbling to pull open his pants while he continued driving his long fingers into you, pushing you right up to the edge, making it hard to do anything other than get lost in the sensations coursing through you, the need and the desire for him exploding through you, your entire body trembling as you lost all ability to think.

“Y/N, come back to me, doll,” Bucky purred.

You nodded, gasping with need as you unbuttoned his jeans, cock laying bare behind the zipper, hard and throbbing, pulsing as your fingers drifted over it. A strangled groan came from him as you wrapped your fingers around him, pulling him free of his clothing and stroking him, your fingers tracing the vein on the underside of his cock, pre-come leaking onto your palm.

“Front pocket,” he groaned, his hips flexing as he thrust into your hand, his hands in your hair, pulling you to him, your mouth slanted over his.

You kissed him while you snaked the condom from his front pocket, impatiently ripping it open and sliding it down Bucky’s length. Bucky lifted you with his hands on your waist and pulled you forward as he held his cock in one hand, the tip gliding through the lips of your pussy, and then he was inside you, pushing in fast and hard, burying himself deep inside of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, Bucky’s face buried against the soft swell of your breasts, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin, marking you as you rode him slow and easy.

Bucky reached up and took your hands, pinning them behind your back with one of his, his metal hand on your waist, holding you in place. He wrapped his lips around your breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth and tongue as his hips shot up off of the vinyl seat, fucking you hard.

“Jesus, doll,” he rasped. “Harder, baby. I need you to ride me harder.”

You did as he asked, riding him harder and faster, his cock sliding in and out of you, a low moan building to a crescendo on your lips, your eyes locked on Bucky’s, his own pleasure written all over his face.

Bucky released your hands, his own sliding up your back to your shoulders, gripping them tight, pulling you down as he thrust up into you. You braced your hands on the back of the chair, fingers digging into the cheap vinyl. Your knees were slamming into the back of the seat, but every bruise you were sure to have would be completely worth it. You could feel the hot throb of Bucky’s cock inside of you, feel his breath on your skin, his hands caressing your body, all of it combined together to pull a mind-blowing orgasm from you, a too loud scream tearing from your throat as the ecstasy encompassed your entire being.   

You threw your head back and let the orgasm take you, still rocking in Bucky’s lap, his cock pulsing as he came, a deep groan rumbling through his chest. When it was over, he hugged you to his chest, his hands running up and down your back, his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“I guess you really are fine,” you murmured.

“Like I said, I’m fine,” Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling under your ear. He lifted you, setting you on your feet, standing with you. He handed you your shirt, then the two of you spent the next few minutes cleaning up.

When you were put back together, Bucky gestured for you to have a seat, while he leaned against the desk in front of you. “I need to talk to you, doll,” he sighed.

“About what?” you asked.

“I’m leaving in a couple of days,” he said.

“What do you mean, leaving?” you murmured, your eyes narrowing.

“We’re following a lead on the quinjet accident,” he explained. “Steve and I. We thought it might have been Harvey, that he somehow told HYDRA where to find you. Tony ran his cell phone records and checked into everyone he had contact with during the hearings. He’s sure it wasn’t Harvey. But, he has a lead. Steve and I are going to check it out.”

“Why do you have to go?” You felt like a petulant child asking her parents why they had to go to work, but you didn’t want Bucky to leave, you didn’t want him putting himself in danger, especially for you.

“Because Natasha and Clint are checking out a couple of other leads,” Bucky replied. “Sam is going to stay here, with Tony, to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you snapped, more harshly than you’d intended.

“Actually, you do,” Bucky said, his tone matching yours, leaving you no room to argue. “Until this shit with HYDRA is taken care of and we know for sure they aren’t going to try and kill you, you’ll have a babysitter. I have to go now, before the next hearing in two weeks. You’re not going to D.C. without me and Steve as your protection detail. I won’t let you.”

You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. “But they almost killed you -”

“Which is exactly why I have to find out who did this,” he interrupted. “Only a few people knew about that bullet and I need to know who decided to use it against me. Once I do, I’m going to make sure they can’t do it again.”

“What if they kill you this time?” The tears were sliding down your cheeks, despite your attempts to hold them back. “I almost lost you once, I-I can’t go through that again.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, kneeling in front of you, scooping up your hands and holding them in his. “You have to trust me.”

“I trust you,” you whispered. “It’s the rest of the world I worry about.”

“I know,” he smiled gently. “I promise I’ll come back to you in one piece.”

“That’s a hefty promise,” you sighed. You leaned over, your forehead pressed to his. “You better keep it.”

“I swear I’ll come back to you, Y/N,” he promised.

You closed your eyes and nodded. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But you also knew that HYDRA would do whatever it took to eliminate you - and anyone protecting you.

“ _Not Bucky_ ,” you silently prayed. “ _Please God, not Bucky_.”


	22. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Steve and Bucky leave to find the HYDRA informant, you and Bucky spend some time together. The two of you take a huge step in your relationship.

“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me,” you muttered. “This is all my fault.”

Bucky shook his head as he shoved the small pile of clothes in his hand into his duffel bag. “None of this is your fault, doll. None of it.” He dropped the full bag on the floor by the door, then he took your hand, pulling you into his arms.

“I never should have -”

“Never should have what, Y/N?” Bucky interrupted. “Gone to work for Wilner? Told someone about what you found? Stood up for what you believed in? If you hadn’t done any of those things, we never would have met -”

“You never would have almost died,” you cut him off, shaking your head and staring at the floor.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he said, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his lap. “I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Because this, what you and I have, that’s not something I ever thought I would get. Yes, this whole goddamn nightmare sucks ass, but it brought you into my life. I will do whatever it takes to protect that.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Bucky wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb, cupping your face in his hand. His metal hand was on your waist, a comforting weight, his other arm sliding around you, easily lifting you with one arm to hug you against his chest, his lips on your neck, murmuring something you weren’t really hearing because you were lost in the feeling of his hands on you.    

Bucky’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your side to your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple, a light, gentle touch, enough to bring it to attention. You raised your arms over your head, allowing him to pull your shirt off and drop it to the floor. He mouthed your breasts through the flimsy fabric of your bra, the scruff covering his chin and cheeks scratching and tickling your sensitive skin.

You reached back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall between your bodies. Bucky growled low in the back of his throat as he took your breast in his mouth, suckling it greedily. God, the things he could make you feel with just his mouth. You were so consumed with what those lips and that tongue were doing that you didn’t even register the fact that he’d slipped his fingers inside the front of your damp underwear, his fingers teasing you.

You tugged at the black t-shirt he was wearing, running your hands over the muscles of his shoulders and arms, lightly dancing over the thick scars on his shoulder, his eyes slipping closed as he endured your touch. Touching him was like touching a marble statue of a Greek god, hard lines and well-formed muscles, the scars marking his skin only making him more attractractive. You leaned over him and pressed a kiss to one of the scars on his shoulder, humming quietly. You felt him tense beneath you, his fingers curling around yours, holding your hand as he let you kiss him.

With a harsh gasp, Bucky picked you up, set you on your feet, and tugged off your pajama pants and underwear, his mouth wet, open, and eager against your stomach as he removed the rest of your clothes. You could hear his breath tearing in and out of his throat, you could feel his sudden impatience emanating from him as he pulled you back down on the bed, lying you beneath him, his hips settling between your legs. His cock was a hard, thick line straining against the buttons of his jeans as he ground against you. He caught your lips in his, the kiss making your toes curl and your heart race.

One hand pushed between your bodies, his fingers sliding through the slick lips of your pussy, his thumb circling your already swollen clit. He bit at your neck, a hard nip that stung deliciously, two of his thick fingers easing into you, filling you, pumping slow and easy, dragging out the pleasure. He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling as he worked you over.

“Jesus, Bucky,” you groaned, your hips rising to meet his fingers, a shudder running through you. You were close, ready to come from just the last few minutes with him, the coil in the pit of your stomach so tight it was almost painful.

He added a third finger, three knuckles deep, the palm of his hand pressed against your clit, and that was all it took, the orgasm rocketing through you, your stomach flipping, your walls clenching around his fingers, a sharp gasp escaping you.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, your head thrown back, your hands wrapped around Bucky’s arms, your nails digging into the skin.

“Mmm, just wait, doll,” he whispered in your ear, his fingers thrusting madly in and out of you, your hips bucking wildly against his hand as the orgasm worked its way through you.

When you finally started to come down from the insane high of the orgasm, you were acutely aware of the hot flush all over your body, the obscene sounds coming out of your mouth, and your insatiable appetite for Bucky. His lips were on your neck, licking and sucking a trail from your collarbone to your jaw as he dragged his fingers from your overstimulated pussy and fumbled at the button of his jeans.

You pushed his hand away and unbuttoned them, struggling to pull them down while pushing Bucky off of you and onto his back. Bucky quickly pushed off the bothersome denim and his boxer briefs and sat back against the headboard, watching you, his gray-blue eyes hooded and dark with lust. You kneeled between his legs, taking in his broad shoulders, the intimidating size of his biceps, the tight abdominal muscles, his cock hard and pulsing where it lay it against his stomach, leaking pre-come. You leaned over him and placed a kiss to the inside of his thigh, kneading the muscles of his leg. You took hold of his hard shaft, stroking him carefully, your tongue sliding along the vein on the underside. He trembled beneath you, his hand brushing through your hair, cupping the back of your head as you took the head of his cock between your lips.

Bucky moaned your name, his hips rising off the bed, pushing himself deep into your mouth. You grasped the base of his cock, using short, even strokes as you pulled him between your lips. You took as much of him as possible, your cheeks hollowed, sucking and licking, your tongue sliding up and down the long shaft, then swirling around the head before swallowing him down again.

He lifted you, moving so quickly, so smoothly you barely noticed it, lying you beneath him, hovering over you, his mouth on yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting himself on your lips. He slipped one arm beneath you, his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, as his kiss consumed you.

When Bucky reached for a condom in the bedside table, you shook your head, breaking off the kiss and putting your hand on his arm.

“No,” you murmured. “We don’t need that.”

One of his eyebrows quirked, his head tipping to one side, a slight smile on his face. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “We’re good.”

“Jesus Christ,” he growled. He took hold of himself, stroking his length several times before slowly entering you, one glorious inch after another, his arms trembling as he held himself above you, his lips roaming over your neck, your jaw, your shoulders. You opened your legs and grabbed his ass, pulling him into you until he was fully seated, filling you completely.

He moved slowly, tight, careful thrusts, pulling out almost all the way before easing back into you, your leg sliding up around his waist, your hips rising to meet every thrust from Bucky. You were both gasping for air, your breath intermingling, Bucky’s hips pumping, harder and faster, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm, erratic thrusting that had you squeezing your eyes closed and pushing yourself down on his hard cock, until you let go and you were coming, hard.

Bucky rocked into you, once, twice, a third time, and then he was coming himself, the two of you so intertwined that you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, pleasure encompassing both of you in a tight cocoon of satisfaction.

When it was over, he laid sprawled over your chest, his weight shifted to one side. He kissed you, over and over, more times than you could count, his hands gently caressing you as he whispered in your ear, quiet reassurances, promises you prayed he could keep. Everything was pushing you back to the edge of arousal - his touch, his smell, his _goddamn_  words, all of it had you desperate for him, had you pulling his hand between his legs, begging him for more.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned.

“I got you, doll,” he murmured. “I got you.” He rolled you to your stomach, two fingers sliding into you, pumping slowly, dragging out the sensations. He twisted his fingers, pressing them against your most sensitive spot, sending heat rushing through you and an unbelievable burst of pleasure through every nerve ending.

You buried your face in the pillow, a low keen escaping you as you ground against his fingers, wave after wave of pure bliss washing over you, leaving you a writhing mess.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he breathed.

You did as he instructed, letting him lead the way, trusting him. He entered you in one easy move, a low growl rippling from deep in his throat. “Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted. “You feel so good.” He brushed a kiss across your shoulder as he began to move, his hips flexing as he thrust into you.

“Oh my God,” you moaned, pushing back against him, clutching the blankets so tight your knuckles ached.

Bucky’s hands roamed over your back and shoulders, one hand on your waist, his metal hand between your legs, his fingers seeking and easily finding your clit, circling it as he slammed into you over and over.

You were consumed, completely gone, lost in the feelings Bucky was pulling from you. You moved with him, push and pull, both of you moving faster and faster until you came again with a muffled cry of Bucky’s name.

His hand tightened on your waist as he dove into you, so deep and hard it felt like you couldn’t breathe for a second, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you, a low moan rumbling through him.

Both of you collapsed to the bed, gasping for air. Bucky grabbed your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. He released you, too soon as far as you were concerned, and climbed out of the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, a warm washcloth in his hands. He used it to clean you up, then he returned to your side, and pulled the blankets over both of you.

You turned to face him, your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Are you really going to go tomorrow?” you asked.

“We talked about this, Y/N,” he sighed. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” you murmured. “You want to go.”

“You’re right, I do want to go,” he said. “I want this to be over. I don’t want to keep you on lockdown all the time, I don’t want to constantly worry that someone is going to kill you and take you away from me, I don’t want HYDRA to win. I know you don’t like it, I know you don’t want me to go, and for that, I’m sorry, but I _am_ going.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. There would be no arguing with Bucky, not about this. You wouldn’t win and you knew it.

“I’m going to worry about you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled gently. “All I can do is promise you that I’ll be careful.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” you said. You scooted closer to Bucky, threw your arm around his waist, and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I’ll still worry, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he chuckled. “I’ll be fine. I swear.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You know, while I’m gone, you should move your stuff in here,”

“What?” You tipped your head back to look into his eyes.

“Unless you don’t want to?” he said, the smile fading from his face.

“No, no, I do,” you laughed, kissing him excitedly. “I just...you surprised me, that’s all.”

Bucky pulled you back into his arms, his mouth slanting over yours, his body flush against yours. You fell asleep surrounded by his warmth.

* * *

The sun wasn’t even up when Bucky climbed out of bed and quietly dressed in the dark. He had no idea you were awake, had been awake the second he’d gotten out of bed, your body craving his warmth, his solidness, resting beside you. You watched him move around the room, pulling on his jeans, securing his weapons, shoving a few more things in his duffel bag and his hat on his head. If you hadn’t been awake, he certainly wouldn’t have been the one to wake you; he was absolutely silent. It was one of the things he did that reminded you of his true nature, reminded you of the things he’d been trained to do. Once he’d finished, he stopped at the side of the bed, one hand beside your head, the other resting lightly on your hip. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered and then he was gone, his duffel bag in one hand, the door closing quietly  behind him.


	23. Learn to Live With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You move into Bucky’s quarters while anxiously awaiting his return from the mission to find the HYDRA informant.

“Wow, that didn’t take long,” you mumbled, dropping the small box on the floor at the end of the bed. “I guess I had even less stuff than I thought I did.”

Wanda followed you into Bucky’s room and set the large duffel bag she was carrying beside the box. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and hugged you gently. “You okay?” she asked.

“It’s depressing to think that my entire life fits into one box and a duffel bag,” you sighed.

“The quality of our lives isn’t determined by the amount of things we own,” Wanda said. “You’ve got Bucky, right? He’s worth more than any material possession.”

“I’d be lost without Bucky,” you nodded.

“And he’d be lost without you,” Wanda replied.

“You think?” you asked.

“I know,” Wanda grinned. “We all know. Trust me, Y/N, you are Bucky’s world. Why do you think he’s been so adamant about finding the HYDRA informant? He will do whatever it takes to protect you. And he expects no less from the rest of us, too. Your safety is his number one priority.”

You blushed, shaking your head in disbelief. You knew Bucky loved you, but to think that you took priority over everything in Bucky’s life was hard to fathom. You’d never been anyone’s priority before and most days, you still had a hard time understanding why you would be Bucky’s. You were nobody, nothing, a small cog in a giant mechanism, certainly not worth laying his life on the line. Which was exactly what he kept doing, over and over again. It was difficult to understand why.

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interjected. “Mr. Stark wanted me to let you know that Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are about to move in on the HYDRA base. Agent Romanoff is providing aerial support and surveillance if you’d like to watch from the conference room.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you replied. “We’ll be right there.”

* * *

You were squeezing the armrests of the chair so hard your knuckles ached. Tony and Pepper had joined you in the conference room, along with Wanda, the four of you watching the large screen at one end of the room. Bucky, Steve, and Clint were on the ground, moving in on a small farmhouse; the location of the secluded HYDRA base.

There were multiple camera angles on the screen, both overhead and what appeared to be a camera on Clint’s uniform. You could see Bucky walking several paces behind Steve, who had his shield up, while Bucky had his gun raised. The sun was barely over the horizon and the earth was cast in shadows. They were moving slowly through a field toward the back of the one level farmhouse.

”Sam? Heat signatures?” Steve asked, the sound coming clearly through the rooms speakers.

“At least six inside, four or five outside,” Sam replied. “There’s a huge block of heat - not human - in what looks like a basement. I’m thinking servers and computers. Natasha?”

“Get me in there and I’ll get into whatever system they’re using,” you heard the Black Widow respond, though you didn’t see her.

“Where’s Natasha?” you whispered to Wanda.

“She’s in a quinjet, her and Sam are monitoring things from above,” Wanda replied. “Steve insisted on it.”

The sound of a gunshot echoing through the room startled you, drawing your attention back to the screen. You saw Steve’s shield fly through the air, hitting someone with a loud thunk, then bouncing off of a pillar on the wraparound porch before returning to his hand. Bucky raised his gun and squeezed the trigger three times, dropping three different people that you hadn’t even seen lurking in the shadows.

Chaos erupted - weapons firing, people yelling, insanity at every turn. Clint was running, the camera jumping like crazy as he fired arrows through the air. Your eyes darted to the other feed, the one from above, but you couldn’t find Bucky, couldn’t make him out in the melee erupting on the screens. You sat forward, your hands on your knees, gnawing at your lower lip, desperate to find Bucky, to make sure he was okay, that nothing had happened to him.

Wanda’s hand closed over yours, squeezing gently. “He’ll be okay, Y/N,” she murmured.

You shook your head. “I’m just so scared,” you whispered. “I came so close to losing him once before -”

“Steve won’t let that happen,” Wanda said. “None of us are going to let that happen.”

You nodded, though your heart was still thundering in your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You weren’t worth all of this, you weren’t worth Bucky risking his life.

An explosion echoed through the room, bringing Tony and Wanda to their feet. The camera feed from the quinjet began to spin uncontrollably, the screen flickering for several seconds before going black. The only feed left, the one from Clint’s uniform, went black ten seconds later, but not before you heard someone screaming and Steve yelling Bucky’s name.

* * *

Seven hours and thirty-two minutes.

It had been seven hours and thirty-two minutes since the feeds from the cameras had abruptly ended. Seven hours and thirty-two minutes since Tony and Wanda had left the compound, intent on getting to the team on the ground.

Seven hours and thirty-two minutes of waiting for word from someone, anyone.

“Why does this keep happening?” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“I’m sorry?” Pepper asked.

“Sorry, Pepper,” you sighed shakily. “I just...just...I feel like this keeps happening, this uncertainty, this fear, almost losing Bucky over and over.”

“I’d say you get used to it,” Pepper said, “but I’d be lying.” She shifted uneasily before rising to her feet and snatching a bottle of wine from the counter and pouring two glasses. She held one out to you. “Loving someone like Tony, it’s not easy. You have to accept the things they do, you have to learn to live with the constant fear, the overwhelming terror that you will eventually lose them that eats away at you everyday. If you’re going to love someone like Bucky, there’s a lot you have to learn to live with.”

“How do you do it?” you murmured, sipping your wine.

Pepper shook her head, her strawberry blonde hair flying around her face. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I wish I could give you a definitive answer. I wish I had some profound words of wisdom. But I don’t. You power through. Every day is a trial, everyday is hard. You just have to do your best. And keep loving him. You do love him, right?”

“So much,” you nodded.

“Then you keep doing that,” she said. “That’s what Bucky needs.”

“Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark and the rest of the team have returned,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced. “The quinjet is landing on the north side of the complex.”

“Go,” Pepper announced. “I’ll be right behind you.”

You sprinted out of the common room, running at full speed toward the north side of the Avengers’ compound. You burst through the door just as the ramp hit the ground and the first people began to disembark. Steve was helping Clint, while Sam had an arm around Natasha, practically carrying her down the ramp, followed closely by Tony and Wanda. As soon as Wanda saw you, she pointed over her shoulder. You pushed past the others, scrambling up the ramp, your eyes immediately landing on Bucky.

“Hey, doll,” he smiled.

You slammed into him, your arms going around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. He laughed and hugged you close.

“I was so worried about you,” you whispered.

“I’m good,” he said. “I told you I would be.”

“God, I missed you,” you said, your lips pressed to his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Did you find out who is doing this? Who the HYDRA informant is?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “It was Senator Jolson.”

You took a step back, staring into Bucky’s grayish-blue eyes. “Senator Jolson? The head of the committee investigating HYDRA and Senator Wilner? The senator from Illinois?”

“Yes, Y/N, Senator Jolson,” Bucky said.

_“Thank you for coming, Ms. Y/L/N,” Senator Jolson murmured, shaking your hand. “I know this wasn’t easy for you. Your cooperation is very much appreciated.”_

_You smiled graciously at the Senator from Illinois. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope it helped.”_

_“More than you know,” she responded. “We can count on you to testify again, if necessary, correct?’_

_“Of course,” you nodded. “Whatever you need.”_

“What’s going to happen to her?” you asked, your head spinning with the realization that someone you’d known and trusted had been behind the attempt on your life. Again.

“She’s on her way to a secure location,” Bucky explained. “Steve and Tony are going to interrogate her later. We’re hoping she’ll agree to cooperate, maybe we can find some other HYDRA agents through her.”

“Does that mean it’s over? Am I safe now?” you murmured.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied. “I wish I could say yes, but Senator Jolson could be a small cog in a bigger wheel. That’s two senators that have been working with HYDRA. Who knows how many more there are? Tony is going to have Natasha dig into everyone’s background, as far back as she can, see if there are any connections that seem suspicious.”

“Is that legal?” you asked.

“Not exactly,” Bucky chuckled. “But when did that ever stop Tony?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m exhausted, doll. I haven’t slept in days. What do you say we head back to my quarters and get some shut eye?”

“Whatever you want to do,” you nodded. You really didn’t care what you did, as long as you were with him.

Bucky slung an arm around your waist, dragging you close, his lips pressed to your temple. It was good to have him back, safe and sound.

* * *

Bucky must have been tired, because he shed his clothes as soon as he was through the door of his room, then he was falling to the bed, gesturing for you to join him. You crawled in beside him and let him wrap you in his arms, your limbs tangled together. He buried his nose against the side of your neck and promptly fell asleep.

The sound of the alarm startled you, drawing you out of a deep sleep. You snuggled closer to the warm body wrapped around you, groaning as the alarm continued incessantly beeping. Bucky reached over you, squishing you beneath him.

“Bucky,” you grunted, “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He grabbed his phone, silenced the alarm, then he dropped it back on the bedside table. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat up, somehow managing to crawl over you without suffocating you.

You burrowed deeper under the covers, pulling them over your head, not quite ready to get up yet. It was too warm and too comfortable in the bed.

“Where are you going?” you mumbled.

“I need a shower before my debrief,” Bucky yawned, stopping in front of the bathroom door.

“Debrief?” you muttered. “Come back to bed, debrief later.”

“Not how it works, doll,” he chuckled. “Stark wants a blow by blow and he’s gonna get it. There were some major fuck ups with this mission and we’re gonna make sure he knows about it.”

You propped yourself up on one elbow. “What kind of fuck ups?” you asked.

“Big ones that could have cost people their lives,” Bucky said. “Almost did. Clint got hurt, a quinjet was shot down, and Natasha nearly died. Major fuck ups. Trust me, I’m going to the debrief and making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I had no idea,” you replied, pushing yourself up, the blankets pooling in your lap, your eyes narrowing. “So, it was bad. As in you could have been hurt? Again?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m fine, doll. I told you, you have nothing to worry about.” He flipped on the bathroom light. “In fact, come shower with me and I’ll show you just how good I am.”

You scrambled out of the bed, hurrying after Bucky, stripping off your clothes as you went. Bucky had the water running by the time you got to the bathroom and was pulling his hair into a low ponytail at the base of his skull. He stepped into the shower, holding the door open for you.

You followed him in, wincing as the too hot water hit your skin. Bucky reached past you and adjusted the temperature, his hands dropping to your waist when he was done, pushing you against the wall of the shower stall. He was warm and soft as he leaned into you, catching your lips in his.

“Mmm, good morning, doll,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, rose up on your toes, and pressed a kiss firmly to his lips. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he sighed, his hand sliding up your waist, settling on your breast, his thumb gently circling the nipple. “Did you get all of your stuff moved in?”

“I thought you forgot,” you replied, your back arching to push yourself into his hand. He was making it very hard to concentrate.

“Of course I didn’t forget,” he grinned. “So, did you?”

“Yep, my one box and one duffel of stuff is all moved in,” you laughed. “Now, can we stop talking and get to the making out?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, hugging you close. “You’re a little minx,” he growled. “What have I done to you?” His nose brushed along the lines of your throat, his tongue darting out to lap at the water dripping down your neck.

You shivered, and not because of the cold tiles against your back or the water rushing over you. Bucky pressed you against the wall of the shower, sucking gently at your neck, just beneath your ear, his metal hand still tenderly caressing your breast, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you close to him. He lazily kissed your jaw, nipping at the soft skin, a contented hum rumbling through his chest as his hands moved over your body. He caught your lips in his, biting at the lower one, his tongue tracing over it until you opened your mouth. Bucky pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his hard, perfect body flush against yours.

You moaned, the sound swallowed by Bucky’s mouth covering yours as the water washed over both of you, droplets clinging to his skin, sliding down his body like a lover’s caress, dripping from the tendrils of hair that had slipped loose of his ponytail, splashing across your face.

“God, I fucking love the sounds you make when I touch you,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with lust, his hand sliding down your stomach, his fingers teasing you, caressing you, making you squirm with anticipation.

“Bucky,” you gasped.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, one finger sliding into you. You moaned again, a deep throaty sound that had Bucky smiling - most likely smirking - against your lips. Another finger joined the first, his thumb pressing against the tiny bundle of nerves, your body responding to his touch like it always did, like there was a fire burning under your skin, a fire you couldn’t extinguish.

Bucky’s arm slid around your waist, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you, while he kissed you tenderly. The hot water was pouring over you, both of you, steam filling the room, your body flushed with warmth. The palm of his hand was pressed hard against your clit, his fingers pumping ever so slowly in and out of your wet heat, your breath tearing in and out of your throat, your hips bucking. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, moaning obscenely.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling it from it’s binding, pressing your body against his, wanting him so badly that every muscle in your body was screaming with need. Tiny, mewling, greedy sounds were falling from your mouth, intermixed with Bucky’s name.

“God, doll, those sounds,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking hot. He rained kisses over your neck and shoulders, his tongue tracing over the trails of water running down your body. His fingers moved inside of you, sending you reeling. “I want to hear you scream.”

“Yes, Jesus, Bucky, yes,” you gasped.

Bucky lifted you, pulling your legs around his waist, rubbing the head of his cock against the wet lips of your pussy before lowering you onto his hard length. You groaned as he filled you, your head resting on his shoulder, your fingers digging into his shoulder. He kept one arm around your waist, the other flat against the wall over your head. He kissed you, long and hard, his hips flexing, his hard abs pressing into you as he buried himself deep inside of you, sending tingles of pleasure shooting through you.

You held on as Bucky slammed into you repeatedly, short, tight thrusts that had you begging him to fuck you harder, to move faster, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening rapidly, close to snapping in no time at all. His mouth was a constant presence on your neck, your shoulders, your lips, his hands holding you tight.

“Harder, Bucky,” you gasped, your fingers twisting in his hair, tugging roughly while you pushed yourself down onto him, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

His lips skimmed your jaw, soft gentle kisses. He sucked your earlobe between his teeth, nipping it gently. He eased back, pulling almost completely free of you before slamming back into you, knocking you against the tile wall. You were close, so close you could feel the orgasm within your grasp, building and building, a high pitched keening sound working its way out of you as the sensations moved through you.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky purred. “Let me hear those sounds that pretty mouth makes.”

You nodded weakly, barely coherent. All that mattered was Bucky and the subtle tilt of his hips, slow and easy at first, but after a few seconds, he let loose, pistoning them rapidly as he thrust into you. He caught your lips in his, sucking your tongue into his mouth, his moans of pleasure mixing with your needy whimpers. You hit your peak, drowning in waves of ecstasy washing over you.

Bucky was right behind you, pulling you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you with one last, hard thrust, groaning your name as he came. He slipped a hand between your bodies, teasing your clit with the tip of his fingers, working you through the orgasm still rushing through you, kissing your neck gently, the three day old scruff on his cheeks and chin scratching your throat.

When he finally set you on your feet, your legs were trembling, so much so that you could barely hold yourself up. Bucky held you with one arm around your waist and his fingers tangled in your hair, his kisses sweet and tender, waiting until you stopped shaking.

“I missed you, doll,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours.

“I missed you, too,” you sighed, pulling him into a kiss. “I hate it when you leave.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Hazards of the job.”

“Sergeant Barnes, your presence is requested in conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the room.

“I’ll be right there, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Bucky sighed. “Five minutes.”

“I’ll inform Captain Rogers,” the AI replied.

“Gotta go,” he murmured, brushing a kiss across your lips. He quickly washed up, grabbed a towel, and disappeared out the door, leaving you to shower alone.


	24. This Too Shall Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky try something new in the bedroom. Your night is unexpectedly interrupted.

You hurried through the dimly lit corridors, moving as quickly and as quietly as possible, your heels in your hand, rushing back to Bucky’s room.

“Our room,” you silently corrected yourself.

Bucky had been gone for hours, almost the entire day, thanks to a last minute decision by Steve that Bucky should join him and Tony at Senator Jolson’s interrogation. Any plans you’d had to spend time with him had been put on hold.

In order to keep yourself occupied, you’d decided to work late, catching up on some paperwork you’d neglected the last couple of weeks. Understandably, seeing as how you’d been dealing with a lot during that time. But when you’d received a text from Bucky telling you he was back at the compound and waiting for you, you’d made a neat pile of the papers on the corner of your desk, and hurried from your office.

You burst through the door and promptly ran right into Bucky, fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. He jumped back in surprise, a laugh bursting out of him as you followed him, your arms going around his neck, your lips crashing into his.

“I missed you,” you laughed.

“Doll, you just saw me this morning,” he chuckled.

“That was forever ago,” you shook your head. Ever since Bucky’s near death, you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You wanted to spend every possible second with him, which you knew was impossible, though it didn’t stop you from craving it. “I need you, Bucky. Every second of every day.”

Bucky smiled, his hands on your waist, squeezing gently. “Jesus, Y/N, hearing you say that -” He didn’t finish what he was saying, instead he ducked his head, his lips brushing against yours, soft, gentle.

You leaned into him, your arms tightening around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging slightly. “I need you, Bucky,” you murmured again.

He cocked his head to one side, one eyebrow raised, an amused expression on his face. “Oh, yeah? And what would you like to do about that?”

A tingle of desire and need shot through you. “Something rough,” you whispered, heat flooding your cheeks. Telling Bucky what you wanted, especially when it came to sex, even after all you’d been through together, was still hard for you.

Bucky stepped back, blinking in surprise. “Rough? You want it rough?”

“Yes, please,” you replied.

“How rough?” he breathed, his gray-blue eyes stormy and dark.

You didn’t say a word, just stared at him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his hands tight on your waist, then he hauled you closer, his warm breath washing over you.

“You sure about this?” he murmured.

You nodded, sliding closer to him, aching for his touch.

“Did you have anything in mind?” he asked.

Now that the question was out there, you had no idea how to respond, what to ask for, what to tell him. You shrugged, feeling slightly breathless and agitated.

“Mmm, kinky fuckery?” he prompted, his words a soft caress.

You nodded again, heat exploding through you. Those were words you hadn’t heard in a while and just hearing them, the way Bucky said them, made every inch of you burn with need for him.

“Anything I want?” he asked.

A chill worked its way down your spine at the thought of what that might entail. “Yes,” you murmured nervously, your stomach twisting deliciously. “Surprise me.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Bucky chuckled. “Let’s get rid of these clothes first. He stepped closer, took hold of the front of your short denim jacket, and pushed it off of your shoulders so it fell to the floor. He grasped the bottom of the black camisole you were wearing and eased it over your head, discarding it beside your jacket. He planted a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, his eyes alight with an alluring mix of lust and love.

“Take off your skirt,” he said, releasing you and stepping back.

You kept your eyes on his as you unbuttoned the skirt and eased the zipper down. It fell to the floor, pooling at your feet. Bucky kneeled in front of you and pulled the skirt away from your feet, tossing it aside. Once you were in nothing but your lace bra and panties, he sat back on his heels, gazing up at you.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered. He grabbed your hips, pulling you close and burying his nose in the apex of your thighs. He inhaled deeply. “You smell fucking amazing,” he groaned. “Intoxicating.” His nose grazed you through the thin lace of your panties, sending shots of liquid heat twisting through your stomach. He rose to his feet in one swift, graceful move.

“Go stand by the bed,” he said calmly, tipping his head in that direction. “Face the wall. You wanted a surprise and that’s what you’re going to get.”

You turned away from him, but your were listening closely, attuned to every sound. Bucky was good at building your expectations, stoking your burning desire, making you wait. But, you didn’t have to wait long before you heard him open and close one of the drawers, causing your breathing to spike noticeably. A second later, music filled the room, muted, soft.

You could hear Bucky moving closer, padding across the floor. His breath was hot against your ear. “You sure about this, doll? You really want it rough?”

“Yes, sir,” you murmured.

“You have to promise me if it’s too rough, you’ll tell me to stop,” he said. “If you tell me to stop, I will. Immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Promise me,” he ordered. “I want to play, but I don’t want to hurt you.

You inhaled sharply, wondering what exactly he was planning.

“I promise,” you replied.

With his nose brushing along the column of your neck, he asked, “What’s the safe word?”

“Pe- petunias,” you answered, goosebumps dotting your skin.

“Good girl.” He kissed your naked shoulder and traced a line down your back with his metal finger, making you shiver.

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as Bucky removed your bra, letting it slide down your arms to the floor. His hands skimmed the length of your back, stopping at the waistband of your lace panties. He hooked both thumbs into them and slowly pushed them down your legs.

“Bend over the side of the bed,” he ordered quietly.

Without hesitating, you did as instructed, your torso resting on the mattress, your face flush against the soft material.

“Stretch your arms over your head, twist your hands in the blankets, and hold on,” Bucky directed. “If you let go, I will punish you. If you aren’t still, I will punish you. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you want me to spank you, Y/N?” he asked.

Everything below your waist seemed to tighten deliciously. You hadn’t realized had badly you’d missed this, how badly you’d wanted this, not until this moment.

“Y-yes please.” Your voice was raw and thick with lust.

His hand connected with your ass, hard and sharp, stinging, drawing a gasp from you. Bucky gently caressed you, right where he’d spanked you. He leaned over you, his hips pressed against your ass, his erection obvious behind the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. He planted a kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing several down your back, his bare skin hot against yours.

“Open your legs,” he commanded.

You moved your legs apart, but it must not have been enough for him, because he tapped your knees with one hand.

“Wider,” he demanded, slapping your ass again.

You groaned obscenely, doing as you were told, clutching the blankets so tight your knuckles ached.

“That’s my girl,” he praised breathily. Bucky ran his hand down your back and over your ass, his fingers teasing at your tight, pink hole. “I think we’re going to try something new tonight.”

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, even as his hand slipped between your legs and two fingers slid into your aching pussy.

“God, you’re so wet, doll,” he growled, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you.

You pushed back against his fingers, rocking your hips, desperate for more. Bucky withdrew them and gave you a sharp smack to your left ass cheek. You gasped, the sting coupled with your mounting pleasure driving you nearly insane with need.

“I said be still,” he warned, easing his fingers back into you, his thumb between your asscheeks, circling the tight hole.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” you asked, breathless with anticipation. The thought of the things he could do both frightened you and turned you on in unbelievable ways.

“Not what you think,” Bucky murmured. “Not yet. We’re going to take things slow, one step at a time.” His hand was gone again and you heard the pop of a lid being opened and the soft squelch of liquid being squeezed from what you presumed to be a bottle, then he was massaging you again, his fingers wet and a little cold. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he was using the vibranium hand, sending a different kind of chill down your spine.

You couldn’t help but squirm again, fear and excitement colliding inside of you. Bucky’s metal hand connected with your ass, just a light slap, but enough to remind you that you were to be still. You whimpered, heat exploding deep in your gut as the tip of Bucky’s finger eased into you.

“Keep still,” he murmured. “And don’t let go.”

Something soft, unlike anything you’d felt before, slid down your spine. You shivered, anticipation running rampant through you. You knew what Bucky had in his hand, you’d seen it in the drawer with his other toys.

“Is this going to hurt?” you panted, muscles flexing and twitching in anticipation.

“No,” Bucky replied, his voice soft, cajoling. He tossed the toy in his hand to the bed; you felt it land against your leg. “It’s small and I’m going to make sure you’re ready to take it before I put it in. If it does hurt or you want me to stop, you tell me.”

You nodded, even though you were nervous. You breathing had accelerated and your heart was pounding.

“You have to relax, doll,” Bucky whispered, his hair tickling your back as he leaned over you. “I won’t hurt you.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips drifting over your skin, soft featherlight kisses that made you want more. His metal hand caressed your inner thighs, sliding up between your legs, his thumb easing into your soaked pussy, even as he continued to move his finger, carefully opening you up. You moaned, overwhelmed by the intensity of the feelings rushing through you. It felt amazing, so much better than you could have imagined.

Bucky took his time, his fingers working you open, until you were panting and groaning, rocking back on his fingers, the coil deep in your gut growing tighter and tighter.

“Easy, doll,” Bucky murmured, dragging his thumb from your pussy, just long enough to grab the toy from beside your leg, along with the bottle of lube.

You were whimpering, moaning, begging Bucky to let you move, something, anything. His hands were back on you, always soft, always gentle. He circled his finger and you felt the tip of the plug brush against your hole.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky asked.

“Y-yes,” you gasped.

He eased the plug into you, very slowly, praises constantly falling from his lips. You didn’t know if it was because you were so turned on or if Bucky has managed to distract you with his fingers, but your body easily accepted the plug. It felt heavy and strange, though not in a bad way. Bucky twisted it, the sensation making your body hum with need.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, your face pressed to the mattress.

“God, Y/N, you’re such a good girl,” he whispered. He ran his hand down your side to your waist, squeezing briefly. He pulled you up, your ass in the air, parting your legs further. “Promise you’ll tell me if I’m too rough.”

“I promise,” you nodded.

Bucky took hold of your hips and eased into you, pulling you back against him at the same time, pushing the plug in deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, twisting the blankets in your hands, rocking your hips a little bit.

Bucky froze, his harsh breathing and your panting in sync. You closed your eyes and dragged in a deep breath, trying to reconcile all the sensations, the delicious fullness, the feeling that you were doing something forbidden, the strangely erotic pleasure that was spinning out of control through your body. He pulled gently on the plug.

“Oh god,” you moaned. “Jesus, Bucky, more.”

You heard his sharp intake of breath and it made your blood boil. His grip on your hips tightened and then he was picking up the pace, slamming into you. God, this was exactly what you’d wanted.

Bucky twisted the plug again, tugging it slowly, pulling it so it was almost out before pushing it back in, even as he flexed his hips, thrusting into you over and over, strong and hard, your insides tightening and quivering, your body on the cusp of orgasm. He was relentless, slamming into you, so hard your face was repeatedly pressed into the mattress, his hands tight on your hips. You moaned, the sounds leaving you unbelievably obscene, your entire body on fire, ready to explode at any second.

“Bucky, please,” you gasped, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for - to stop, to never stop, to twist the plug again. It was too much and not enough at the same time, an overload to the senses.

“You’re doing so good, doll,” he breathed. “Such a good girl.”

He pulled you back against him, rocking you on his cock, his hand sliding down your hip to your ass. He smacked you, hard on your left asscheek, following it quickly with his hand squeezing you gently. That was all it took, your body wound so tight that you let go, your walls clenching around Bucky as you came, falling, spinning out of control, explosions of color behind your eyes.

Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting, pounding into you until you thought you would pass out, the pleasure on a never ending loop. You felt him tense behind you and then he was coming, his cock twitching and pulsing as he emptied himself inside of you, a muffled scream leaving you as another, not quite as intense orgasm engulfed you.

You were a boneless mess, sprawled across the bed, the blankets twisted beneath you. Bucky pressed a kiss to the middle of your back before climbing off the bed and hurrying to the bathroom. He returned almost immediately, a warm washcloth in his hand. He gently cleaned you up, his lips drifting over your heated skin.

“Take a deep breath, doll,” he murmured, tugging on the plug still inserted in you.

You did as he asked, your eyes slipping closed, inhaling through your nose. He gently removed the plug and disappeared into the bathroom again.

Even though you were exhausted, in the best way possible, you pushed yourself to your feet, grabbed one of Bucky’s t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, and quickly put them on. You had just straightened the blankets on the bed when Bucky slipped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the spot behind your ear.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?” you smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. “You did all the work.” You giggled and winked at him.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

“I’m the lucky one,” you corrected him, leaning back against his chest, your hands curling over his. “Because I’ve got you.”

* * *

At first, you thought you were dreaming, a memory-dream of the explosion that had nearly killed you, but also sent you on the run. But that memory didn’t include a brown-haired, blue-eyed man leaping out of your shared bed, shoving on a pair of jeans, grabbing a gun, and running out of the bedroom to the door to his quarters.

Another explosion, louder than the one that woke you, echoed through the compound. You scrambled out of the bed, hurrying after Bucky. You stopped halfway across the small living room, watching him carefully.

“Bucky?”

“Get under the bed, Y/N,” he ordered, pointing back toward the bedroom. “Get under there and do not move. Don’t make a sound. And do not come out until I come back.” He yanked open the door and vanished, the door swinging shut behind him.

You turned around and sprinted back into the bedroom, dropped to the floor, and quickly crawled under the bed. You turned on your side and stared through the apartment at the door Bucky had just gone out. You could hear muffled shouting, more explosions, and what sounded like gunfire outside of it. You saw several flashes of light, bright orange, illuminating the tile floor. You clasped your hands between your breasts, silently praying.

Smoke drifted beneath the crack between the floor and the bottom of the door, slowly filling the room. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to move, to get out from under the bed and go, but instead, you curled yourself into the fetal position, your hands wrapped around your head, fear clutching your heart.

When the door splintered, the pieces flying through the room, you had to put a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. You were sucking in huge lungfuls of air, desperately trying to keep quiet, praying the chaos erupting outside the room would mask any sounds you were making. Two sets of boots entered the apartment, moving slowly, sidestepping the wood scattered about.

“Check everywhere,” a deep voice ordered. “We don’t have long. They won’t be able to hold off Barnes and Rogers much longer.”

“What about Jolson?” the second man asked.

“Team two is on it. Our job is to find Y/N and take her back to base. So move.”

They separated, moving in opposite directions. You could see them moving through the main living area of Bucky’s quarters. It didn’t take long before they were moving toward the door to the bedroom. You were shaking from head to toe, tears streaming down your face.

As soon as the two men entered the room, they split up again, one heading toward the bathroom, the other toward the closet. You waited until their feet vanished as they stepped into the respective rooms, then you moved to the foot of the bed and eased out from under it, as quietly as possible. You hurried out of the room toward the door.

“Fuck, Turner, I got her! Heading for the door,” one of the men shouted.

You broke into a run, slamming into the door, fumbling with the doorknob, struggling to open it. Gloved finger tips grazed your shoulder as you yanked open the door and fell into the hallway. You scrambled to your feet, slipping on the tiles, unable to get any traction to propel yourself forward. A hand closed around your ankle and you screamed, the sound bouncing off of the walls around you. You kicked blindly at whoever was holding you, earning yourself a startled grunt and the satisfying crunch of bone. The hand dropped away from you and you shot forward, your feet finally cooperating. You took off at a dead run, yelling Bucky’s name, the sound of bootheels closing in behind you.

Twenty feet ahead of you, Bucky rounded a corner, gun raised, eyes wild, Steve right behind him.

“Y/N!” he yelled.

“Bucky!”

A hand closed around your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You screamed, fighting to break free from the man holding you. He raised his gun, firing at Bucky and Steve, the bullets blocked by Steve’s shield. The man that had grabbed you wrapped his arm around your throat and dragged you backwards down the hall.

You struggled, to no avail. You watched as Bucky stalked toward you, the look on his face deadly. “Let her go,” he growled angrily. “Now.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” your captor muttered. “You’ll have to come and get her.”

“Let her go and I won’t kill you,” Bucky snapped.

“You won’t be killing anyone, Barnes,” someone behind you laughed. “Not today.”

“Batroc?” Steve straightened up, his shield still raised. “What the hell?”

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers, long time no see,” the man replied. “Turner, take Ms. Y/L/N to the helicopter.”

“I won’t let you take her,” Bucky shook his head. “You’ll have to go through me.”

“I thought you might say that,” Batroc nodded. He pressed a finger to his ear, speaking quietly.

Despite the ringing in your ears, you heard him muttering something about a missle. Turner lifted you off your feet, his grip deathly tight. As soon as your feet left the floor, Bucky moved, racing toward you, even as you were carried backwards down the hall. He had only gone a few feet away when the glass wall to his left exploded, glass flying everywhere, Bucky and Steve thrown against the far wall.

You screamed Bucky’s name, struggling to break free. You felt a pinch as a needle pierced your skin, a chill racing through you as cool liquid flowed through your veins. The last thing you saw before you slipped into unconsciousness were Bucky and Steve struggling to free themselves from the debris of the broken building.


	25. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're held hostage by the man who destroyed your life.

The cold was the kind of cold that seemed to seep into your bones, making you shiver from head to toe, the kind of cold that made you feel like you might not ever get warm again. The only thing you had to cover yourself was a thin blanket, barely big enough to cover your legs. You were still in nothing more than the shorts and t-shirt you’d been wearing when you’d been taken and the room you were being held in - small, tiled, metal table, two metal chairs, a cot with a pillow and blanket tossed on it - was like being inside an icebox.

You hadn’t seen anyone since they’d dumped you in this room. You’d regained consciousness in the helicopter, but you’d kept your eyes closed and your breathing steady, hoping to gain some kind of knowledge about where they were taking you and what they wanted. Maybe it would help you get back to Bucky.

Just the thought of Bucky brought tears to your eyes and made your heart pound. You should have listened to him, done as he’d said and stayed under the bed. You’d been foolish to try and escape, foolish to try anything at all. You wrapped your arms around yourself and leaned against the wall, fighting the overwhelming waves of despair that were threatening to pull you under.

You heard footsteps in the hall outside, then the door opened slowly. You sat up straighter, wondering who they’d sent in to talk to you.

“Senator Wilner?” you gasped.

“I’m afraid it’s not Senator anymore, Ms. Y/L/N,” he shook his head, pulled out one of the chairs, and sat down. He crossed one leg over the other, then he straightened the creases in his pants, fussing with them for a minute or so before finally raising his eyes to look at you. “You saw to that.”

You swallowed around the lump rising in your throat and pulled the thin blanket tighter around yourself. “I’m not responsible for your choices,” you murmured. “I had nothing to do with your choice to join HYDRA.”

“HYDRA is the ultimate power. It will change the world and make it a better place, bring about a security never seen before on this planet. It is what humanity needs, what it craves, to survive. Forget the so-called superheroes, forget Stark’s Avengers. The world needs HYDRA.” He folded his hands in his lap, his head tipped to one side, watching you carefully.

“The people of HYDRA are murderers,” you whispered. “How is that making the world better, how is that giving it what it needs?”

Wilner scoffed, waving off your question as if it didn’t matter. “You’ll never understand. You’ve been indoctrinated to believe that all people are good, redeemable. That freedom is a right. HYDRA knows differently.”

You shook your head, but didn’t bother to argue with the former senator. It wouldn’t make a difference. You pushed a hand through your tangled hair, grimacing as it caught between your fingers. “Why am I here?” you asked.

“My son,” Wilner replied.

“Harvey?” you murmured. “This is about Harvey?”

“My son is dead because of you,” Wilner continued. “He never should have been on that jet, never should have been near you. If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive.”

“HYDRA killed your son -”

“Trying to get to you!” Wilner shouted, slapped his hand down on the table. “You and your Avengers dragged him into this, brought him out of hiding to testify against me, and because of that, HYDRA decided he had to be eliminated, along with you. But you lived. You survived because of that abomination, Sergeant Barnes. He kept you alive when you should have died.” He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Because of you, because of Barnes and Rogers, HYDRA no longer trusts me. They believe I’ve turned against them, that I’m one of you now. They think that because they killed my son, that my loyalties have changed. I need to show them that they’re wrong.”

“So you’re turning me over to HYDRA,” you sighed.

“HYDRA has no idea I have you,” Wilner corrected you. “Not yet, anyway. They would have killed you the moment they laid their hands on you. I have other plans for you, far more ambitious plans.” He rose to his feet. gently pushed in the chair, and left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

Two huge men, dressed as orderlies, entered the room, moving quickly to drag you off the bed, one on either side of you. You kicked and screamed, fighting to get away, though you had no idea where you would go if you got away, all you knew was that you could not let them take you, could not let Wilner follow through with whatever he had planned. Your struggles were to no avail, the men too strong to fight off. Tears slid down your cheeks as they carried you from the room and down a long, dimly lit hallway.

* * *

The pain was everywhere, covering every inch of your body. It felt like your skin was stretching, your muscles expanding, an intense burning sensation setting your nerve endings on fire. You’d stopped screaming hours ago when your voice had given out and the pain had become all-encompassing, pushing everything else out of your mind.

You were strapped to a table, metal clamps on your ankles and wrists, another on your neck, holding you down. They’d creaked and groaned when the convulsions had taken over your body, the one holding your left ankle had snapped, quickly reattached by one of the orderlies.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, the surges of pain too much for you to handle, too overwhelming. Every now and then, you could see people moving around you, feel the pinch of a needle entering your arm, the burn of something coursing through your veins, the shock of electricity jolting you. Everything seemed fuzzy, dim, as if you were seeing it from a great distance. Your eyelids were heavy, the burden of keeping them open too much. You let them slip closed.

Somehow, you weren’t sure how, you ended up back in the small room you’d first been held in, sprawled across the bed in a hospital gown, goosebumps covering your skin. You didn’t remember how you got there or how long you’d been there; there was no clock in the room, no windows, no way of knowing how much time had passed.

You struggled to sit up, your head spinning, gorge rising. You leaned against the wall behind the bed, your hand over your mouth, praying you wouldn’t vomit. You stayed like that until you thought you could move, gingerly placing first one foot, then the other on the floor, one hand on the edge of the bed. You stumbled to your feet, catching yourself on the back of one of the chairs before you toppled over, squeezing it so hard your knuckles were white. You sucked in giant lungfuls of air as you tried to get your bearings.

The door opened and Wilner stepped inside. “Y/N? How are you feeling?” he asked.

You ignored his question and asked one of your own. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days,” Wilner replied.

“Three days?” you repeated. “H-how...how is that possible?”

“You were unconscious during a great deal of the procedures,” Wilner explained. “Do you remember anything?”

“Pain,” you whispered. “A lot of pain.” You swallowed thickly. “What did you do to me?”

“We made you better,” he smiled.

“I-I don’t understand,” you mumbled.

“You will,” Wilner chuckled. “Soon, I suspect.” He glanced at his watch. “The orderlies should be in soon to see you. We need to run more tests. We need more blood before we can’t get it anymore.”

“What?” You dropped ungracefully into the chair beside you, your heart hammering, confusion and uncertainty making your head throb. You were going crazy, unable to make sense of Wilner’s purposely cryptic answers to your questions. You wanted to scream.

Wilner smiled at you, a creepy smile that made your skin crawl. “You’ll understand soon enough, Y/N,” he said. “I promise.” He knocked his knuckles on the metal table and left, leaving you just as confused as ever.

You shifted uneasily in your seat, even as the door opened and the two orderlies entered the room. They once again took hold of you, one on each side, lifting you and dragging you out of the room. You didn’t fight them. 

Not this time.

* * *

Former Senator Wilner visited you several times a day, just for a few minutes at a time. It was as if he was waiting, watching, wondering if you were going to do something. By the fourth day, you had been strapped to the table on three separate occasions, the pain a near constant companion. All of the fight had gone out of you and you had given up hope of Bucky ever coming to save you, convincing yourself that Wilner had hidden you so well that no one would ever find you, including Bucky.

You’d just been dumped back in the small room after another round on the table, your body on fire, your skin prickling, wanting nothing more than to sleep forever. You closed your eyes and curled in on yourself.

The door burst open, one of the two orderlies coming through it. He yanked you off the bed, pushing you out of the room and into the hallway. The overhead lights were flashing in a steady rhythm, the echo of a siren bouncing off the concrete walls.

“Where are we going?” you mumbled.

“Helicopter,” the orderly muttered. “You’re leaving.”

“What’s happening?” you asked, cringing at the sound of your own disembodied voice.

The orderly didn’t answer, just shot a glance at you over his shoulder, pushing you down the hall toward an open door. You could see people moving on the other side of it, though you couldn’t make out what they were doing. The sirens seemed to be getting louder as you approached the door and you could hear shouting, panicked voices and faint screams.

The other orderly appeared in the doorway, moving quickly, sprinting toward you. He had nearly reached you when he suddenly lurched forward, falling to his knees, a startled grunt falling from his lips, followed by a spray of blood.

“Fuck!” the man holding you yelled. His hand clamped down on your arm and he yanked you in front of him.

“Let her go!”

“Bucky?” You struggled to get away from the man holding you, trying to pull free, but the grip he had on your arm was bruisingly tight. “Bucky!”

“God damn it, let her go! Now!” Bucky shouted.

“Fuck you, asshole! I let her go and you kill me!” The orderly dragged you backwards, keeping you positioned in front of him.

Bucky dropped to one knee, his gun raised, one eye closed. He took a deep breath and fired.

You felt the bullet hit him, felt the vibration thrumming through your body, then you were falling, dragged to the floor by the now dead man still clutching your arm. You fell on top of him, a scream leaving you, his blood staining the light blue scrubs they’d dressed you in.

“C’mere, doll,” Bucky murmured, pulling you to your feet and wrapping you in his arms. “Christ, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I d-didn’t think y-you were coming,” you stammered, the tears you had been holding back streaming down your face.

“Jesus, doll, I’ve been looking for you for days,” Bucky shook his head.

“We’ve been looking for you since they took you,” Steve added. “We would have been here sooner, but the quinjets were disabled.”

“Blown to shit might be a better explanation,” Bucky scoffed. He pushed your hair away from your face, his touch soft and gentle. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

“What did they do?” he asked. “Who did it?”

“It was Wilner. And I don’t know what they did,” you replied. “I barely remember anything, just pain and heat, and Jesus, exhaustion. It...it was like torture.”

“Buck -” Steve interrupted.

“I know,” Bucky growled, hefting his gun to his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you out of here.”

Bucky led you through the halls, keeping you safe in his arms, not sure where you were going, but trusting him to get you out. You were fading fast, whatever they had done to you was beginning to have an affect, the exhaustion catching up with you. Bucky was practically carrying you, his arms around your waist.

“The helicopter, Buck,” Steve said, gesturing toward a door.

“Yeah, go,” Bucky nodded. “I’ll cover you.” He leaned you against the wall and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna be right back. I gotta help Steve. You stay right here.”

“Bucky, wait,” you gasped, reaching for him even as he disappeared into the night.

The inevitable shift from excruciating pain to an overwhelming urge to sleep was starting; you could feel your eyes slipping closed as your head fell back against the wall. You could hear gunfire, see flashes of light going off outside. You waited, anxious, on edge, fighting the exhaustion threatening to overtake you. You knew you couldn’t stay there, vulnerable and alone. Every time Bucky left you alone, something bad happened. Not this time. You shoved yourself away from the wall and stumbled to the door, intent on following Steve and Bucky.

Just before you got out the door, someone grabbed the back of your scrub top, dragging you backwards. A surge of anger and adrenaline rushed through you. You spun around, not caring who had a hold of you, and slammed your hand into the chest of whoever it was.

The man came off of his feet and flew fifteen feet through the air, slamming into the wall on the other side of the room and sliding to the floor. You stared at your hands, unable to believe what you’d just done.

“Y/N!”

Standing just a few feet in front of you was former Senator Wilner, his hands up, his tone soft and quiet. “Y/N, let me help you,” he murmured. 

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” you whispered.

“Let me take you to someone who can explain it,” Wilner said. “Let me take you to HYDRA.”

Anger flowed through you at the sight of the man who had caused you so much anguish, the man who had upended your life. What had he done now?

“What did you do to me?” you screamed.

Wilner took a tentative step closer, an odd smile on his face. “Everything will be fine, if you just come with me.”

You shook your head as you backed away from him, this man responsible for the destruction of your life. 

“Stay away from me.”

Wilner took another step, moving in on you, his mouth hanging open, his words fading away and eyes widening as a metal arm slipped around your waist.

“You heard her, Wilner,” Bucky growled. “Back off.”

Wilner’s mouth snapped shut. “Sergeant Barnes,” he said. “This is between Y/N and myself. Walk away and you won’t be hurt -”

The gun fired before the words were out of Wilner’s mouth, the bullet hitting him right between the eyes. He dropped to the floor.

“Let’s go, doll.” Bucky scooped you up, turning and sprinting out the door to the waiting helicopter, Steve in the pilot’s seat. He set you inside, tapping Steve on the shoulder. The helicopter immediately rose into the air, leaving the chaos behind.

You curled against Bucky’s side, shaking, opening and closing your hands into fists. You had no idea how you had done what you had and you were terrified of the answer.


	26. Home

“Take her to the infirmary. Now.” Bucky pushed you into the wheelchair manned by the two agents who had met the helicopter.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you murmured, clutching at his arm. You weren’t, not really, but you didn’t want to leave Bucky’s side.

“You’re lying,” Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Go to the infirmary and I’ll be right there. I promise. Let Banner and Cho look you over.”

You sighed, but you couldn’t argue with him, not when you could barely keep your eyes open, not when every inch of your body felt like it was being stung with tiny needles. Five minutes later you were lying in one of the infirmary beds, a blood pressure cuff on your arm, nodules attached to your temples, one of Cho’s nurses fussing over you, while Banner and Cho shot questions at you. You answered them as best as you could, but the answers were slow to come, barely intelligible, your mind foggy, your body aching, throbbing, hurting.

“Where’s Bucky?” you mumbled. It wouldn’t be much longer before you fell asleep and you wanted Bucky there by your side.

“He’ll be here, soon,” Cho replied. “I promise.”

The exam continued, along with the questions. You sighed heavily as your blood was drained into a vial, your eyes examined, your ears, even your hands and feet. Every touch stung, every sound was louder than a jet engine, every light burned your retinas.

“Bucky,” you sighed again.

“I’m right here, doll,” Bucky whispered. A cold metal hand took yours and warm lips pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You rolled to your side, curling into a fetal position, eyes closed, whimpering as pain coursed through your body. Dr. Cho appeared at your side, a needle in her hand. She swiped your shoulder with an alcohol swab, then you felt a slight pinch. A strange, floating feeling encompassed you and the pain eased. You let out a shaky breath and let yourself relax, drifting in that space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

“Talk to me, doc,” you heard Bucky say an undetermined amount of time later. “What’s wrong with her?”

“From what I can see, there’s nothing wrong with her,” Banner said.

“But, the pain -”

“Is perfectly normal considering what she’s been through,” Banner finished.

“And what exactly is that? What did Wilner do to her?”

“We ran some tests,” Dr. Cho said. “Her blood has a high concentration of the same chemical compounds found in Steve’s blood, in yours, and to an extent, in Bruce’s. There are also other chemicals that we haven’t yet identified.”

“Chemicals like the ones in the serum used on me and Steve?” Bucky murmured.

“Similar, though different, like yours was different from Steve’s, as was the one used on me,” Banner explained. “We’re still trying to figure out how different and what it means for her. We also don’t know if they used radiation and if they did, what form it was in. That could make all the difference in the world.”

“Are the effects permanent?” Bucky asked.

“Most likely,” Dr. Banner continued. “Though it remains to be seen. We should know more over the next few days. From what she’s told us, the last dose was administered a day or so ago. How the serum interacts with her body is dependent on her genetic makeup. You know, from experience, that it’s different for everyone. Plus, we have no idea what bastardized version of the serum Wilner was using. All we can do right now is keep her comfortable and wait.”

“I’m staying with her.”

The protective, no-room-for-argument tone of Bucky’s voice brought a smile to your face. You let yourself relax, for the first time since you’d been taken, your body sinking into the pillows, a pleasant warmth surrounding you. You were almost asleep when the comforting weight of Bucky’s hand settled on your hip and his warm breath brushed the lobe of your ear.

“You’re safe now, doll. You’re home and you’re safe.”

* * *

You scrubbed the towel over your face and pushed a hand through your sweat dampened hair, waiting patiently as Dr. Cho removed the electrodes attached to your skin.

“Well?” you asked.

“Nothing abnormal,” she replied, flipping through the file in her hand. “It’s like every other test we’ve run the last two weeks. All of your vitals appear normal, there aren’t any spikes in adrenaline, endorphins, nothing. The only thing is the serum, though it doesn’t seem to be affecting you.”

“So, what does that mean? What happened to that man, the one I hit, was it just a fluke, some adrenaline fueled reaction, like someone lifting a car off of a loved one? Something like that?”

“You said you were scared and angry?” Dr. Cho murmured. “You know about Bruce -”

“When he’s angry or scared, he changes to the Hulk,” you nodded. “We...we’ve talked a few times. I asked if it was possible to push me, to see if something would happen. He doesn’t want to chance it.”

“And I agree with him,” Dr. Cho nodded.

“So do I,” Bucky interjected, striding across the room. “It’s not happening.”

“Buck -” you shook your head.

“It’s not happening,” Bucky repeated. “We don’t know what could happen. It could kill you.”

“It could help me figure out what they did to me,” you snapped.

Dr. Cho rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, Sergeant Barnes, Y/N, I’d like to enter these test results in the computer.” Without another word, she disappeared out the door.

Bucky pushed it closed and flipped the lock before turning back to you. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his gray-blue eyes flashing in irritation. “You’re not pushing the issue, Y/N. You could get hurt or even die.”

“But I need to know,” you muttered. You rose to your feet, purposely pushed past Bucky, stomped across the room, and yanked open the small refrigerator. You twisted the top off of a bottle of water and downed half of it in several swallows.

“If the serum they used on you is anything like the one they used to create the other Winter Soldiers, it could be dangerous. Not just for you, but for anyone near you. One of them knocked me on my ass, Y/N, and I’m practically indestructible. The serum did something to them, made them more aggressive, angrier, uncontrollable.”

“It might not be like that -”

“Or it could be exactly like that and either Steve or myself might have to hurt you in order to stop you,” Bucky growled. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t trust me?” you muttered.

“I don’t trust the serum,” Bucky corrected you.

“Serum that now runs through my veins,” you added.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Y/N.”

“Then don’t!” you screamed, slamming your hand down on the counter, unbridled anger suddenly rushing through you. You spun on your heel, fist raised, vision gone black, a low snarl bursting out of you. Bucky caught your hand in his metal hand, a grimace crossing his face as you struggled with him.

“Y/N!” His hand slid up your arm and cupped your elbow, dragging you up against his chest. “Calm down!”

You planted your hands in the middle of his chest and shoved as hard as you could. Bucky stumbled back a few steps, but he didn’t release you. You swung at him again, prompting him to grab your wrists and hold them tight. You screamed in anger, an incoherent burst of nonsense. You weren’t even sure why you were angry, why you’d lost your temper, why you were trying to hurt Bucky.

The realization that you were trying to hurt _Bucky_  hit you like a freight train. A strangled sob left you as you wrenched free, reeling backwards, your hands covering your mouth, a futile attempt to hold back your cries.

“Oh, Jesus, Bucky,” you groaned. “What the hell was that?”

Bucky pushed you back against the counter, his hands heavy on your waist. He leaned over you, his mouth slanting over yours, the kiss hard and rough. He lifted you, his hands on the back of your thighs as he set you on the counter. His hands were splayed over your back, tugging up the back of your tank top, the calloused fingers on his right hand rubbing against your soft skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “Jesus, Buck, I’m so sorry.” A single tear slid down your cheek, your emotions spilling out of you.

“I know,” he sighed, his metal fingers brushing your cheek. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure it out.”

You wrapped your legs around the back of his legs, pulling him closer, your arms sliding around his neck. “I’m scared,” you whispered, your lips pressed to his ear.

“So am I, doll,” he nodded. “If anything were to happen to you…” He caught your lips in his, bruising, needy, wanting. “I can’t lose you, sweetheart. It would kill me.” His tongue sank into your mouth, a deep, slow kiss that caused an ache right between your legs.

Desire rushed through, a sudden, indescribable need that you couldn’t deny. You grabbed his hand, pulling it between you bodies, guiding it between your legs. He growled low in the back of his throat and slid his hand past the waistband of your workout pants, his middle finger slowly caressing the lips of your pussy. He lifted you with one arm, holding you tight against him, his long middle finger pushing into you.

You moaned, your head falling to his shoulder. He kissed your neck hungrily, adding another finger beside the first, twisting them just so until you were moaning and writhing. He did it again, hitting that one perfect spot, drawing a gasp of pleasure from you.

You turned your head, burying it in the crook of his neck, inhaling his masculine scent, riding out the sensations he was pulling from you. He had two fingers deep inside of you, slowly pumping them in and out, brushing over your sweet spot each time he dragged them free before thrusting roughly back inside of you. His lips roamed continuously over your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at the juncture where your shoulder and neck met.

“Come for me, doll,” Bucky growled, crooking his fingers, his thumb pressed to your clit, circling it as he caressed the rough ridge of tissue on your inner walls. “I wanna feel it, sweetheart.”

You cried out Bucky’s name as you came, your back arching, your hands clamping down on Bucky’s shoulders, your slick covering his hand. Your hips bucked, grinding against his fingers, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Bucky yanked your shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. You leaned back as he kissed a trail down your neck to your fabric-covered breast and pulled the flimsy material aside with his teeth, taking the nipple in his mouth. You moaned, low in the back of your throat, his name a curse on your lips. He maneuvered you out of your pants and underwear, his hands sliding up your thighs, caressing your warm center with his thumb, his mouth on your naked breast.

You grabbed his chin, pulling his lips to yours, urging him to kiss you. You fumbled with the button on the jeans he was wearing, yanking them open, and slipping your hand inside his boxers. Bucky sighed as your hand wrapped around him, pushing himself into your fist.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned, shoving his jeans down his hips.

He nodded and pulled you toward him, lifting your hips to meet his, the head of his cock easing into you. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging into the flesh through his t-shirt, as he filled you completely. Bucky braced himself against the wall behind you with one hand, his other around your waist, his hips slowly rocking into yours. The two of you moved together wordlessly, so attuned to each other’s wants and needs that words were unnecessary. Bucky knew exactly how to get you off, exactly how to move, where to touch you, what to do to make you breathe out his name on a shaky, stuttered breath.

Your muscles tightened around him, your orgasm close, the pleasure building to a deafening crescendo, Bucky thrusting harder and faster until you were both coming, the intensity of the orgasm causing your vision to go white and your head to spin.

You clung to Bucky when it was over, kissing the side of his face, his neck, his ear, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Tell me everything is going to be okay. Promise me it will be okay,” you murmured. “Please, Bucky, just say the words so I can hear them.”

“I can’t, doll,” Bucky sighed. “I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep.” He brushed a kiss over your lips as he hugged you to his chest. “But I can promise you I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

“That’s enough,” you breathed, your head resting on his shoulder. “That’s all I need.” You pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I could also use a shower,” you laughed, trying to lighten the moment.

Bucky set you on your feet and bent to grab your clothes. When he crouched down, you noticed the bruises on his neck, bruises in the shape of _your_ fingers. You reached back, steadying yourself on the counter, and as you did, you felt an indentation in the metal. Eyes wide, you turned and placed your hand over it. It fit perfectly.

You had done that, you had dented the metal counter when you’d slammed your hand on it. You sucked in a startled breath, the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

What the hell was happening?


	27. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggle to come to terms with your new strength and your evolving relationship with Bucky.

 

It had been nearly a month since Bucky and Steve had rescued you from former Senator Wilner. A battery of tests and psychological exams hadn’t brought you any closer to figuring out what had been done to you during your time with Wilner and every day that passed saw you growing more and more frustrated. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to keep your temper under control.

In an effort to be open and honest with Bucky, you had told him about the anger you’d been experiencing and the crazy bouts of strength that would often occur, seemingly out of nowhere. He was doing his best to help you to learn to channel your anger, to focus it, to use it to your advantage. You’d begun training with Steve a few times a week, learning to control the unexpected strength, learning to control muscles you’d never used before, learning to channel the anger into something more productive. Bucky didn’t like it, in fact, he hated it, but it was more out of worry for your safety than anything.

Three or four days a week, sometimes more if he wasn’t on a mission, you would meet Steve in the training room, where you would spend an hour or two working out, honing the new skills you were slowly learning. Even on the days that Steve and Bucky were out on a mission, you were in the training room.

Bucky was with Steve, gone, some top secret mission, so secret you weren’t privy to any information about it. You’d visited with Dr. Cho, spent more than an hour in the training room, then you’d showered and headed back to your room.

Bucky had you in his arms the second you stepped into your shared quarters, startling you. Your hands came up as you fell into a defensive posture, ready to fight. Bucky murmured your name, his breath warm against your ear, his touch familiar. You relaxed in his grip, your arms sliding around his neck. Only one light was burning in the room, in the small living area, the door to the bedroom open, jazz music playing quietly from the speakers in the corner, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the coffee table.

“What’s all this?” you whispered.

“I missed you,” Bucky whispered.

“You did?”

“I always miss you when I’m away from you,” he smiled. He handed you a glass of wine, his smile widening when you moaned as the sweet nectar hit your tongue. He brushed your hair off of your face and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured.

His rough, calloused hand and his smooth metal one were everywhere, running over your skin, exploring everything he was already more than familiar with, his kisses sweet, gentle, insistent. He plucked the wine glass from your hand, set it on the table, then he lifted you, pulling your legs around his waist, and carrying you to the bedroom. Bucky lowered you to the bed, his lips still on yours, kissing you breathless.

Your head fell back against the headboard as Bucky kissed his way down your body, his stubbled chin rasping against your sensitive skin. He wrapped his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and underwear, pulling them slowly down your legs, leaving you naked from the waist down. He situated himself between your legs, his hands on your hips, thumbs resting lightly on your pelvis, his nose sliding along the soft skin surrounding your heated core. His lips parted, the tip of his tongue slipped out, tenderly caressing the silken folds.

A guttural moan escaped you, the sound vibrating through both of you. You grabbed Bucky’s wrists, dragging yourself closer to him, to his mouth, wanting more, needing more.

Bucky chuckled, squeezing your hips to keep you still. His mouth moved over your pussy, not quite a lick, not quite a kiss, but a subtle, gentle caress that left your body burning with promises of more. He rained kisses over your stomach, pushing your shirt off as he moved up your body, finally settling on your breast. He pulled it into his mouth, teasing the nipple repeatedly with his tongue. He pushed a hand between your legs, easing them open so he could slide a finger inside of you, his thumb pressed to your clit. He teased it, brushing his thumb over it, nipping at your nipple as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

Bucky had you precariously balanced on the edge of pleasure and pain, his fingers inside of you, his teeth tugging at your nipple, pushing you rapidly toward climax. You grabbed his arm, your nail digging into his bicep, your hips grinding against his fingers.

All it took was Bucky’s lip on your ear, his low voice whispering “Come for me, doll,” to send you over the edge. You screamed out your pleasure, your body lighting up with pure ecstasy. You grabbed his head between your hands, caught his lips in yours, and kissed him desperately.

But, his kiss was nothing more than a tease, a brush of his tongue over your lips as he slid down your body, suckling your breast until the nipple was a tight, hard nub aching for his attention. His metal hand replaced his mouth as he continued his trek down your body, leaving your body scorched everywhere his lips touched. The fingers of his other hand were still moving inside of you, caressing your inner walls, each brush over your sweet spot causing your body to scream with need. He eased his fingers out of you, replacing them immediately with his tongue, his hand sliding under your ass to lift you to meet his mouth.

*Bucky’s name rolled off your tongue, both a curse and a prayer, your body humming, nearly vibrating with the need to let go, to allow the pleasure to sear through your very bones, to let the pleasure take you and fill you. You held back, afraid to let go, afraid of  _ yourself _ , in a way you never had been before, afraid you would hurt Bucky.

Bucky’s fingers curled around yours, squeezing gently, his touch grounding you, reminding you that you were safe with him, you would always be safe with him, that he could take whatever you gave him. You closed your eyes, your head thrown back, the orgasm rolling through you, encompassing you, burning through you, leaving you a trembling mess, the intensity almost more than you could handle. When he finally released you, your entire body was shaking and you could barely move.

Once again, he kissed his way up your body until he was nestled between your legs, his hips thrusting into yours, grinding against you. He was insatiable, biting, sucking, kissing you, making you ache with desire, nearly savage, his control slipping with his need to take you. His cock was hard, throbbing and pulsing behind the thick fabric of his uniform. With an impatient huff, he pushed himself to his feet and yanked off his clothes, tossed them aside, then he was back on you, his mouth covering yours, kissing you like it had been months instead of days since you’d seen each other. Bucky rolled to his back, pulling you with him, sighing as the weight of your body settled on him. The tip of his cock brushed against you, your slick covering him.

A moan rumbled through his chest, his hands clamping down tightly on your waist as he lifted you, holding you as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing shaft, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his blue eyes nearly black with lust as he watched you. You put your hands on his chest and rocked forward, moaning as he filled you.

“Fuck, yes,” Bucky growled, his eyes rolling back in his head as you started to move, his hips coming up off the bed, his cock sliding deeper inside you. He released his tight hold on your waist, sliding his hands down your hips to rest them on the top of your thighs. “Move, doll.”

You followed his instructions, rocking forward and back, trembling a little when his cockhead brushed your g-spot. You did it again, your body reacting the same way with every move. Bucky’s hands curled around your thighs, pulling you forward, his head thrown back, breathy groans leaving him every time you moved.

You started slow, letting the sensations roll through you, but Jesus, you wanted to move, wanted to ride him hard and fast, ride him until you were both exhausted, until you were falling into his arms, spent. You leaned over him, cupping his face in your hands, kissing him. He returned it, enthusiastically, one hand on the back of your neck, holding you to him, his kisses greedy and probing.

Bucky pulled away, nipping at your lips as he broke off the kiss. “Turn around,” he ordered.

You didn’t hesitate, dropping another quick kiss to his cheek before lifting yourself off of him and turning around so you were facing his feet. You braced your hands on his thighs as Bucky held his cock, brushing it against the lips of your pussy, one hand on your waist, guiding you as he easily slid back into you.

You closed your eyes, rocking backwards, gasping as Bucky thrust into you, filling you completely. Every drag of his cock hit just perfectly, every thrust pushed you closer to climax. You let your hand slide down your body, let it come to rest between your legs, your fingers pressed to your clit, moaning at the intense combination of Bucky inside of you and your own movement. He put both hands on your waist, his thumbs resting on the curve of your back, yanking you forward and back, silently encouraging you to move, urging you on.

You were nearly in a frenzy, insatiable, your only thought was getting not only yourself off, but Bucky as well. You were covered in a light sheen of sweat, wanton cries of pleasure coming from you, your entire body hovering right on the edge.

Bucky yanked you backward, hard, his hips coming up off the bed, burying himself inside you. You felt his body tense beneath yours, his cock surge, felt his fingers clamp down so hard on your waist that you knew there would be bruises later. The orgasm rushed through you, your vision gone white, every muscle trembling, exquisite pleasure consuming you. When it was over, you fell forward, your arms resting on Bucky’s thighs, gasping for air.

He ran his hands up and down your back, his touch soft, gentle. “You okay, doll?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded. “Just tired, but in a good way.” You rolled off of him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, then you climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up and splashed some water on your face.

Bucky slipped his arms around you from behind, his vibranium thumb circling your belly button as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulders. “You’re a liar,” he murmured. “You’re not okay.”

You turned around and let him pull you into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder. “I can’t tell you exactly what’s wrong. I feel like I’m in this weird limbo between the real world and something else. I’m not sure what I’m doing. Is this my life now? Waiting for you to come back from missions, contributing nothing? I feel, I don’t know, lost.”

“You contribute,” Bucky said. “We couldn’t -”

“- do what you do without Pepper and I helping,” you finished. “I know. But, I can’t help but think that’s not enough. I want to do more. There has to be more than being an Avengers’ girlfriend.”

“That’s not enough?” Bucky laughed. “I’m kind of a handful.”

“Yes, you are,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m being crazy.”

“It’s okay, doll. I get it. This is all new and different. Who knew when you walked through that door seven months ago that this would be where we would be. We’ll figure it out. Keep moving forward. That’s all we can do.”

“Move forward,” you repeated. “I think I can do that.”

“I know you can, doll. We’ll figure it out. We have so far, right?” He kissed your cheek and hugged you tighter. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.”


	28. Unexpected News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven’t been feeling well and it takes its toll on you, making Bucky worry.

 

The first time it happened, you were in the common room, standing in front of the open refrigerator, reaching for a bottle of water. One minute you were on your feet, the next you were on the floor, sprawled over the cold tile, with no idea how you got there.

You chalked it up to dehydration and exhaustion, brushed it off, and didn't mention it to anyone. You also chose to ignore the seemingly ever-present feeling of nausea and lightheadedness, again thinking it was nothing more than a lack of water and sleep. You did your best to drink more water and get extra sleep at night. 

Unfortunately, the next time it happened, it was in front of a room full of people, including Bucky, who about lost his shit. He scooped you off the floor and carried you through the halls of the compound to the infirmary, demanding Cho examine you immediately. She agreed, but only if he waited outside with Steve.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked once he had left the room.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I think I'm just dehydrated or something. I thought the first time was a fluke."

"Wait, this has happened before?" Cho said.

You nodded, then quickly explained what had happened the first time. When you were finished, Helen drew some blood, then ordered you to lie down while she ran a couple of tests. She let Bucky in as she stepped out, warning him to behave himself. He growled at her, but sat gingerly on the side of the bed and took your hand. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and hugged you gently.

You waited in silence, Bucky's leg bouncing, his fingers tapping on the sheet covered mattress, the only sound the soft whirring of the gears in his vibranium arm when he moved. You knew he was worried that this was yet another issue with the unknown serum racing through your veins. To be honest, so were you.

A half an hour after you'd entered the infirmary, Dr. Cho returned, a single piece of white paper in her hand.

"Bad news, doc?" Bucky murmured.

"On the contrary, Sergeant Barnes," Cho smiled. "I think congratulations are in order." She handed the slip of paper to Bucky with one line highlighted in bright green.

_ Pregnancy test - positive _

* * *

You found Steve in the weight room, alone. He smiled when he saw you, wiped the sweat from his brow with the towel in his hand, and patted the bench beside him. You sat down, your hands clasped between your legs, staring at your shoes.

“Where is he?” you murmured.

“He went running,” he replied. “Said he needed some time alone.” Steve cleared his throat. “How are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m just great,” you scoffed. “I’ve got some crazy, unknown serum running through my body and surprise, I’m pregnant, and nobody has any idea how that serum could affect the baby. Oh, and my boyfriend is a super soldier who risks his life for a living and has decided to avoid me instead of talking to me about the fact that we’re going to have a baby. So, yeah, I’m great.” You dropped your head into your hands and attempted to hold back the tears, though one did slide down your cheek.

Steve slipped an arm around your shoulders and hugged you. “Hey, give him a little time, okay? Trust me when I say he is totally in love with the idea of being a dad. It’s just...it’s an adjustment. Buck spent a lot of years in a bad place, a lot of years believing he’s a monster and now, I think...well, I think he’s going through this weird ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing.”

“I don’t understand -”

“Bucky doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. He’ll never say it out loud or admit to it, but I know that’s what he thinks. He believes that he shouldn’t get the good things because of all the bad he’s done.” Steve bumped his shoulder into yours. “You’re a good thing, kiddo, and as far as Bucky is concerned, he doesn’t deserve you. Or this baby.”

“But that’s not true,” you whispered.

“Try telling him that,” Steve snorted.

“I’m going to,” you laughed. “Whether he likes it or not.” You hugged Steve, grateful that Bucky - and you - had such a good friend. “Thank you.”

Steve kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

“Get your paws off my girl, Rogers.”

Bucky stood in the doorway, glaring at the two of you, though a smile danced at the corner of his lips. You darted across the room and threw yourself into his arms, giggling when he caught you with a playful growl and loudly kissed you.

“I’m working on getting my own girl,” Steve mumbled as he passed the two of you. “If she wasn’t so damn stubborn we’d probably be married by now.”

“Tell Maria I said hi,” Bucky yelled after his friend.

“Maria?” you asked. “As in Agent Maria Hill?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “They’ve been dancing around each other for years. Maria keeps putting him off. But, he finally wore her down; they’ve got a date next week.”

“Good, Steve needs somebody,” you said.

“Especially since I’m going to be busy with my wife and new baby,” Bucky smirked.

You took a step back, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. You probably looked like an idiot standing there with your mouth hanging open, staring at Bucky.

“Did you...did you say  _ wife _ ?” you stammered.

Bucky nodded, caught your hand in his, and dropped to one knee. “I love you, doll, I love you more than I ever thought possible. And now you’re having my baby? You couldn’t be more perfect. I want you with me for the rest of my life. Call me old-fashioned, but I want to do this right and make you my wife. I ain’t got a ring or anything fancy to say, just me asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

You flew at him, your arms going around his neck, knocking him to the ground. He grunted, pulled you close, his mouth slanting over yours, kissing you breathless.

“Is that a yes?” he murmured.

“It’s  _ hell _ yes,” you laughed. “I guess that means you’re okay with me being pregnant.”

“Of course I am, doll,” he said. “I’m thrilled. Nervous as hell, but happy nonetheless. It’s going to be amazing.”

“What about the serum?”

“We’ll figure it out, with Cho and Banner’s help. Stark even said he’d do whatever it takes to help. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” you muttered. You rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m scared.”

Bucky rubbed your back, his touch soothing, comforting. “I know, doll. So am I. But, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re my hero, Bucky Barnes.”

“I’m not a hero, sweetheart. I’m just me. A guy who loves you.”

“That’s all I need,” you murmured.


End file.
